To Tame A Dragon

[Paragon]

Closed to Enigmatic Immortal. All bunnying of both players approved.

Dorian felt pretty good about himself. Ever since he started working for a sealed up ancient dragon, he's been doing some real good in the world, and getting paid for it to boot! Fallow, his little black dragonling companion that was invisible to everyone but Dorian, was also in a good mood.

"What are we going to do now?" Fallow asked Dorian telepathically, the only way in which this form allowed him to speak. He seemed much more confident in associating himself with the young man. "We're not too far from a town. Maybe something fun there?"

"Calm down, little guy," Dorian replied. "Slow down and enjoy the scenery. I bet there's all sorts of things you've never seen if you look close enough."

They were walking along a road that was surrounded by farmland. Dorian was traveling along The Steppes, not only waiting from his next mission from his boss dragon Malanthar, but also looking for something to do from town to town. He wanted to show Fallow as much of the world as he could, starting with the most beautiful places he knew in Salvar. The town they were heading to had a great freshwater lake that was known for its island at the center. The island was like a little oasis, filled with rare flowers in a myriad of colors.

It was midday now, so they would get to the town long before sundown. Along the way, they came across two men arguing next to a wagon. One of them had a farmer's hat on with overalls, while the other wore a blue jumpsuit. Both of them had sandals on.

"What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" Dorian asked with a slim hope of being a mediator.

"It's that accursed town! They say there's a blasted dragon terrorizing it!" one of them replied,

"W-w-w-what?!" Dorian stepped back. His dreams of mediating shattered like a broken window.

The man continued, "I keep telling my friend here that we need to turn back, but he's having none of it!"

"We've come too far!" argued the other man. "We'll lose all of our investment if we give up now! I hear it only comes out at night, we could still make it!"

It hit Dorian that this was definitely right up his alley. He could speak dragon, right? Maybe he could still fulfill his desire of being a mediator. After all, this wasn't the first time he's dealt with a dragon-related problem. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding.

"I'll handle this," Dorian smiled with confidence. "Just leave it to me."

He took off for the town, leaving the two men nonplussed by his confidence. Fallow flew to his side, gliding along and keeping up with his running speed.

"I don't know about this, Dorian," he spoke into the young man's mind, "This is different from before. If this dragon is anything like dad... he won't be as small as a Wyvern."

Not long ago, Dorian solved a similar problem of Wyverns attacking people, but he managed to get them to stop.

Dorian tried to assure his little friend, "Don't worry so much, little buddy. Everything will turn out okay."

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen pondered the numerous reasons why he of all people had to go to this blasted land. He hated Salvar for many reasons, the most notable being he had frozen to death on more than one occasion. It could have also been that it was the fortress Death’s Cradle where he was brutality experimented on before an eventual decapitation. It might have even been the fact a midget had stolen fifty gold coins out of his pockets when he was stabbed in the heart by a sociopath on a killing spree before he found is ways into Cassandra Remi’s midnight rampage.

Whatever the reason was, Jensen Ambrose, immortal Knight of Apocalypse didn’t care in the least. A hate was born for this land and he needed no other reason than that to despise it. He figured it was like his unhealthy racial disgust towards elven creatures; it never made sense and warmed his cold black heart.

Never-the-less Jensen was on a mission from his order and as a senior knight he was bound to obey. His good fortune in having time off wasn’t immortal like he was and eventually he knew he had to go back to work. Still, he hated this current mission because it brought him to Salvar. So like any spoiled brat he whined and complained the entire time.

Rumors had spread that something, a dragon of some kind, was terrorizing a local town. Usually these things don’t garnish the attentions of his order. The Knight’s of Apocalypse were all about making the world neutral and grey so that the horsemen could return and destroy the whole world. Logically a dragon on a rampage just didn’t fit into the cosmic mandate handed down by the horsemen themselves. Yet this dragon had a sentient intelligence and posed a threat to the Knight’s works and ideals.

How one simple rumor could spawn an intelligent thinking black dragon was well beyond Jensen’s capacity for caring, but he shrugged and strode off to start his mission. He had been traveling for weeks making his way all the way from the Labyrinth of Pestilence in Radansath by the edges of the Lavinian coast. His feet ached beneath him as his boots were worn out, but he pushed onwards to be done with the days travels by reaching the next town.

His traveling eventually led him to two farmers of some kind and they were both in a heated argument, pointing towards the town in the distance about ten miles or so up the road. One wished to finish his job. He was dressed in blue overalls. The other was a coward and pleaded for retreat dressed in a blue jumpsuit of some kind. Jensen listened to them bicker as he passed by them until the one dressed in a jump suit stopped the Enigmatic Immortal.

“Friend, you can’t go there!” he pleaded as he lifted his hand from Jensen’s shoulder. The knight cocked an eyebrow in mirth as he smirked.

“Any particular reason why?” He asked slyly as he crossed his arms over his chest. The other man dressed in overalls stepped forward with a dark look towards his companion.

“A dragon attacks the land at night. He thinks it’s not safe for anybody. I agree it isn’t safe, but if you had simple business to get in and get out it wouldn’t be a problem!” he spoke more to his companion than to Jensen. In response the Immortal just grinned as he turned towards the town with a wicked smile.

“I guess that’s my cue.” Jensen said stepping back on the path and walking towards the town.

“Hey!” the one in overalls shouted to him. “That’s suicide! Don’t be a hero! Let the Salvarian government handle it.”

“Yeah, don’t be like that other crazy lunatic who thinks he can stop a dragon!” but Jensen ignored there cries as he picked up his pace. He was nearing his target and he couldn’t’ help but smile at the prospect of getting the mission going.

“IT WILL KILL YOU!” they both shouted at him. This only solicited a sick twisted laughter, like a cruel joke that only Jensen could understand.

“I’m hoping it can!” he shouted jovially.

[Paragon]

The town looked worse than Dorian thought. Several houses were missing roofs, while others had large sections with dark discoloration that he assumed were from burns. While he had heard of fire-breathing dragons before, he never imagined he's be walking in the wake of one. Many of the houses were boarded up and abandoned, while others had makeshift covers of wax to lessen the effects of the damage. The waterfront was especially damaged, with the docks leading into a ship graveyard. The small market had barely any peddlers, and the people that remained shifted about listlessly as though they had already given up. To Dorian, the most obvious resting place of the dragon was the island.

Deciding not to bother these depressed people, he walked up to the one governmental building in the town and walked inside. Several sections of it were boarded up from the attacks, but the building was not abandoned. At the very least, the mayor still maintained hope in a solution. Fallow was close behind, inspecting the burn marks along the walls. The mayor was a tall, thin old man with a serious expression and large, thick eyebrows. He had deep brown eyes and wore a light jacket with shirt and cotton pants. He was talking to two of the townspeople who had sheathed swords at their sides.

"Is there any way I can help?" asked Dorian, prompting the mayor to stop his conversation and turn to him.

The wooden floor creaked with every step the young man took to get closer. Much of the furniture that would usually adorn a room such as this was put into storage for fear of damage, so it was a very lonely, dirty-looking room. Dorian didn't blame them. After all, why bother with maintenance if a dragon was going to ruin it all at night?

"Afraid not," the mayor replied sullenly. "We've sent out many requests for help, but I doubt any will come in time before my beautiful town is completely leveled."

"Have you checked the island?"

"The island? When the dragon leaves, it heads over toward the western horizon. It doesn't go to the island. Not like we have any boats left, anyway."

"I see... well I'll try to help anyway."

"We'll pay well if you can get rid of it, but don't get yourself killed. I've had enough of these suicidal adventurers."

The mayor seemed depressed and walked away, leaving Dorian with a bad taste in his mouth. It seems he had no choice but to wait until nightfall. As he went for the door, someone else came in. A confident-looking man that walked up to the mayor.

'Is he here to help as well?' Dorian wondered as he decided to eavesdrop for a bit.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

One word could describe the carnage he saw when he entered the town: Massacre. It was like the dragon had figured which places to burn first, the docks, the government buildings, a few houses of nobles and the poor. It left behind symbols of hope however. This proved the beast had some intelligence as far as Jensen was concerned. It left behind small patches of light so that when it came at night it would extinguish them in a bale fire.

Jensen’s feet carried him over to the market area, seeing the people walk with a dejected life. They didn’t just give up, they let their spirits be broken. Depending on the faces he could summarize the pain each felt. Some must have lost family, others a close friend. Maybe the heritage of a lineage of generations long past was gone in an instant. Either way you looked at it Jensen found their faces delightful. This misery was like a great feather tickling his side and he chuckled to himself.

The government building resembled more of a patchwork quilt than some place of order in this desolate town. Jensen noticed the mayor immediately, his face keeping a hope alive as he ordered men around to relieve the pain of his beloved town. He shook his head as he walked on by and approached the mayor in kind.

Without much grand stand the mayor turned to him and nodded once before looking at papers upon his desk. Jensen laughed to himself as he stepped up and leaned on the heavy red lacquered desk. Casualty reports were astronomical for a small town and the immortal pondered how many died a painful death.

“I’m here to help,” Jensen said with authority. The mayor gave him a quick look, and then sighed before nodding his head.

“Okay, if you can take it down you can expect a hefty sum of payment for your troubles.” Jensen shook his head.

“Use that money to rebuild this town, dumbass.” The word left his mouth with such grace like a hero before turning quickly sour as he lowered his gaze in disgust. The mayor looked to a few pieces of paper before it registered in his mind what the knight had said to him.

“Excuse me?” The mayor asked with a rising voice. “What did you call me?” his voice lowered to a deeper tone of shock. Jensen smiled the whole time and leaned over to grab an apple from a fruit basket on the other side of the table. He juggled it in his hand before taking a large bite out of it. When he was done eating he took a large gulp and pointed out the window to the island.

“I have a lot of military intelligence training, I can assure you that the dragon is sleeping on the island.”

“You are not the first to say this,” the mayor said darkly, still infuriated by the insult. “I will argue that I see the dragon fly off to the west.” Jensen shrugged his shoulder indifferently.

“A beast like a dragon has wings for a reason. Chances are the bastard flies over the horizon out of sight before looping over the mountains to take roost in the island. Why else would every last boat you own be torched?”

“Because it’s a nuisance and a pain in my side!” the mayor spoke loudly, giving the immortal a confused expression. “Look, I don’t have much to tell you. Black scales, mean temper, and torches whatever the hell it wants. You’ll have to do the rest, Mr…” he spoke waiting for Jensen to finish his sentence.

“Ambrose, Jensen Ambrose.” he bowed lightly getting off the table. “I will take my leave then. But I do have one last question to you,” he waited to make sure the mayor’s attention was focused solely on him. “If this town is being ravaged by a dragon shouldn’t it be your civic duty to ensure these people’s safety by evacuating them to the nearest town? I mean, seriously. Staying here is getting your town killed as well as the people. I can smell the charred flesh from this spot. And don’t give me a bullshit excuse like these people wouldn’t move, or I have nowhere to go. People’s generosity in times of trouble are legendary.”

Jensen turned on his heel and walked out the door leaving the mayor to stew at Jensen’s implied insults to his character. As he walked out he stopped and cocked his head to the side.

“Hasn‘t anybody told you it‘s impolite to eavesdrop?” Jensen asked cracking a grin without looking to the youth behind him.

((Feel free to Bunny Jensen))

[Paragon]

Dorian replied, "Maybe, but then again so is ruining the mercenary business with your offers of free work." His expression turned to one of smiling acceptance. "Then again, I wasn't planning on taking any pay either."

It looked like he was not alone in this affair after all. Not only that, but this Jensen guy sounded like a professional. Although, what kind of professional? If he was an expert in dragon-slaying, it would impede Dorian's goal of resolving the situation peacefully. He walked up to Jensen, who turned around to face him.

"I'm Dorian. Since neither of us are competing, how about working together?"

"That's fine with me," Jensen replied. "Let's go somewhere a little more discreet to talk."

Dorian agreed, and they headed off and rented a couple of the few non-destroyed rooms from the local inn. Fallow floated close behind, a bit wary of Jensen. They stopped in Jensen's room, which only contained a bed and a small bed stand. There was a communal bathroom at the end of the hall outside of the room. Outside the singular window the waterfront could be seen, and further out the mysterious island just barely loomed over the horizon. The luminous glow of the sunset covered the water, but this was no time to enjoy the scenery. Jensen paced around the room while Dorian was stationary. Fallow rested on the bed.

With an eagle's confidence, Jensen announced his plan, "That dragon's on the island. All we have to go is swim over and slay it while it's sleeping."

Dorian hid his rejection of this plan, but he didn't really have a good alternative besides waiting till nightfall.

"T, that won't work," Fallow's nervous words echoed into Dorian's mind. He was clearly taken back by the concept of dragon-slaying. "A dragon's hearing is sharp, even in sleep. He'd know you were coming halfway there and..."

Fallow's voice trailed off, but Dorian could guess that the end of that sentence involved some sort of violent act.

He spoke up on Fallow's behalf, "It's not really asleep, even while sleeping. We'll be sitting ducks out there in the lake. I say we wait until nightfall and deal with it then."

Jensen was no fool, however, "I know what I'm up against here. The dragon will make mincemeat out of us if we engage it head-on."

"Yes, but-" Dorian interjected, holding his hands up in frustration. "Well, I think it's worth a shot. We need to know what we're dealing with. At the very least, we can confirm this theory about it looping around. That way we can get them to fix up at least one working boat and get over to the island during the day fast enough to not get caught."

Jensen could tell that Dorian was up to something, but didn't know why the young man couldn't just outright tell him. He stated, "I'm not doing anything until you tell me your plan."

Dorian sighed, and guessed that it couldn't do too much harm to come clean with the man, "Alright, here's the deal: I can talk to dragons. I sincerely believe that this dragon can be reasoned with. Above all, I want to give it one good try. Can we do that?"

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen had to blink a few times just to make sure he heard that right. The boy’s face remained neutral, hiding no ill intent or mental retardation. That was bad, cause Jensen was hoping the boy had problems in the head to think he could talk to dragons.

“Uh,” He didn’t know what to say to that. The kid wanted to reason with a dragon by talking to it. He felt a long checklist begin to tally down his head like a pile of coins being counted as to why this was just foolishness. One: The boy thinks he could talk to dragons. Two: The boy thinks this dragon can be reasoned with. Three: The kid thinks he could talk to dragons. The list tended to repeat it self.

Jensen snorted before he blinked again. Talk to dragons. He just couldn’t fathom that one. He chuckled inside his own head as he began to wonder which of the two were crazier. For once he met someone who may actually give him a run for his money.

“And I’m the good fairy who rewards small children for brushing their teeth.” he blurted. Now the boy blinked before softly turning away. What the hell could the immortal do? This was so silly to him, and clearly this wasn’t a game, but the way the boy looked back to him, eyes filled with determination, proved that at least he comprehended the dangers in this particular mission. Filled with doubt he shrugged his shoulders.

“Hey, stranger shit has happened in this world,” he muttered rubbing the back of his head as he turned a wooden chair backwards and slumped into it. “Okay, you can talk to dragons.” he forced the words out, willing himself to believe them.

Worst case scenario, Jensen and the boy would get killed by the dragon. This didn’t bother him in the least, being immortal and what not. It was the kids life he gambled with, not his. “You are sure you can reason with this beast?” he asked, his eyes squinting in disbelief as he challenged the plan.

“I believe so,” the boy said. “Yes. I see no reason why it can’t be.”

“You can talk to dragons, so I assume that means you have knowledge of them.” Jensen lifted his hands and began making small circles with them as he spoke. “So logically, you have to have some base knowledge of the creatures.” The boy nodded. “It’s a black dragon. I know for a fact those bastards are mean. Really mean. What makes you think it would even listen to you before toasting you like a marshmallow?”

The boy shrugged. “Good intentions?” he said weakly laughing. Jensen cracked a grin and shook his head.

“I’ll admit you got balls,” he said looking out to the sky. “We’ll go with your plan, kid. Pray to whatever god worship that you know what you’re doing.”

Feel free to bunny Jensen, period. Let me know what ideas you want or if you had other ideas.

[Paragon]

With nothing more to do but wait, Dorian retired to his own room with Fallow trailing close behind. His room was the same as Jensen's, with a thin layer on dust on everything but the bed. The young man took off his boots, fell onto the bed and hugged the pillow, sighing in relief to finally be able to lie down after his travels.

Fallow looked out the window and spoke into Dorian's mind, "That guy... he doesn't appear to have much confidence in your plan."

"It's fine," came a muffled reply from Dorian with his face in the pillow. "It doesn't matter if he believes me or not." He pulled his face up and looked out the window. There was still some light outside. "You mind waking me up when that big guy shows up?"

"How can you sleep?! I, I can't stop thinking about the danger you're putting yourself in!"

"We've been walking all day," Dorian rolled over to face the wall, away from the window. "I don't know if this dragon will come out in an hour or right before the crack of dawn. I'd rather get some rest while I still can."

"That's not what I meant. Aren't you worried?"

Dorian yawned and closed his eyes, "Worries are like ripples in the water, little guy. Let them go far enough and they'll make a tidal wave."

Fallow reluctantly agreed to keep watch, and before he knew it Dorian was fast asleep.

In an old, decrepit throne room deep in the heart of a sealed castle there stood a young man before a great, ancient black dragon. Dorian often had dreams like this in which his employer Malanthar would assign him missions, but this time the great dragon had a different message for his young errand boy.

"I want you to stay away from that dragon," came a thunderous voice from the dragon, his mighty figure making the throne room look small by comparison.

It took Dorian a moment to figure out he was dreaming, but once he did he was surprised by Malanthar's command.

"Why?" he asked with a look of concern in his face. "I'm sure I can come to an understanding if I just had a chance to talk to him." Dorian assumed it was a male in this dream. "Hey- also- isn't he part of your clan or whatnot? You're both black dragons, right?"

Malanthar rose his great head, his dark scales shimmering in the illusory light all around them. "There are many tribes of dragons, young one. I do not claim province over every dragon with dark scales."

Dorian was a little frustrated by the reply, "Still, doesn't the chance exist that he is a member of your tribe? You can't deny that possibility, can you?"

"It is true that I do not know if the exact origins of this wayward one, yet-"

"Then there's a chance!" Dorian interrupted. "He could be part of your clan!"

"Listen to me!" Malanthar's voice echoed loudly, sending shock waves throughout the dream world they were in. Dorian's vision became wavy, and he almost felt himself waking up. The ancient dragon continued, "Do not needlessly throw away your life for a single good deed. You still have much to do in this world, both for your own sake and for my son's." The son, of course, referring to Fallow.

"You told me once, when I first came to you..." Dorian started, his voice somber but filled with passion. "That you wanted to know what became of your kind in the outside world. The wyverns, the other dragons, every group that once sought your help in their times of need. You may have finally found a relative- a dragon that could actually tell you what you have missed, and you're too busy worrying about me! I won't have that kind of selfishness."

Malanthar was silent. He did not expect Dorian to stand up for the rampaging dragon to such an extent. The darkness of the dream world became brighter, and the cracks in the floor seemed to close up. The mood in the air was different.

"Very well," Malanthar finally submitted. The ancient dragon explained to Dorian that if he managed to maintain physical contact with the other dragon for a full minute, Malanthar could use the young man's body to establish a psychic link directly with the aforementioned dragon. He could speak into the other dragon's mind, and command it to step down if it was really descended from Malanthar's tribe.

Dorian was satisfied with this plan, but before he could thank Malanthar he was shook out of his dream by Fallow's words.

"Dorian, Dorian, wake up! It's... it's here!"

The young man got up and put his boots on, looking out into the darkness outside the window. Suddenly, there was a flash of light that caused him to shield his eyes. It was fire! The dragon was spewing fire everywhere! It was really here! He got his things and ran out of the room, out into the main area of the inn, and out the door. Up in the sky, a stream of fire would erupt from a black outline every few seconds. It was hard to see the dragon in the darkness, but the flapping of its wings gave away its location clearly enough. He looked around and saw a ladder leading up to the roof of a house that was burned.

He climbed up the ladder and started yelling upwards in dragon-speak from the roof of the burned house, "Hey! Down here! Can you hear me?!"

The dragon didn't respond to his cries. Was he too far away? He had to do something to get its attention.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

As the boy left the room Jensen rolled his eyes and made a coo-coo noise rolling a finger by the side of his head. He snorted in mirth going over the conversation in his head and he used it as a good bedtime story as he figured he would sleep until the beast came.

Nothing like a dragon rampaging the town would really be a better suited alarm clock.

After several hours it had happened. One loud ear piercing screech followed by a huge explosion and the smell of burning wood. Then the unmistakable sound of people screaming in terror lifted into the confusion filled air as the immortal lazily turned to his side and rolled over trying to get back to sleep.

He took a whiff of the air and his nostrils flared smelling the fire before it penetrated his lungs and he began to cough lightly before sighing in defeat. With a stretch of his arms and a large yawn the immortal lazily bent over and causally put on his boots. The sound of the rafters rumbling overhead didn’t phase him as the pitter patter of feet slamming on the wood outside his door made him smile dumbly as he smacked his lips.

When he had all his things assembled he slapped his hands on his knees and stood up walking towards the door. He eyed an apple in the corner on the table and unable to control his hunger he reached for it and gave it a quick polish before he walked to the door and placed one hand on it.

The knight’s confusion was apparent as he flew upwards and out his window, fire engulfing the door that was his only protection from the dragon’s attack on the Inn. He landed outside upon a cart of hay and he couldn’t help but laugh as his body felt sore. He thought about the ride with glee before he remembered something important.

Jensen took the first bite of his apple and smiled. Nice and crisp.

With that out of the way the immortal used his last bit of energy to weakly push the door off him. The air was filled with black smoke as the dragon was at last revealed to the immortal. All the classic signs of what he expected were there. Beady eyes, dark scales, mean temper. It swooped back and then opened it’s large leathery wings to hold itself in place before it built up another wave of fire in its mouth. Within seconds the Inn took another blast. The weakened wood groaned and ebbed as it gave way starting to collapse upon itself much to the enjoyment of the reptile.

Jensen yawned again titling his back and hearing it pop as he rotated his arms and felt them pop as well. He took another bite of the apple and casually glanced around. He found the boy he was talking to earlier screaming at the dragon from a burning rooftop not far away. Shrugging his shoulders he walked forward and easily passed by the screaming citizens of the town.

After he climbed the wooden ladder he stood behind the boy, eyes filled with content as he looked up to the dragon with the boy. He took another large bite and mumbled with juice filled lips,

“Why don’t you try waiving to get its attention.” He smiled to himself as he took another bite. "Or insult its mother! That usually gets people to listen to me."

He watched as the dragon laid waist to another small building, a shop of some sort. The kid seemed to be getting frantic as the dragon ignored him. Jensen sighed, wondering what the hell the kid was thinking.

"OI, YOU LARGE UGLY BASTARD!" Jensen shouted cupping his hands for added affect. He pulled out one of his throwing glaives and aimed for the beast that still ignored them. "IGNORE THIS!" He shouted as the weapon went flying from his fingertips like a bird in flight.

The glaive soared through the air and swiped across the snout of the beast and Jensen cursed his aim. He wanted to poke its eye out. Either way it now looked to both of them and Jensen lifted his apple and took another bite.

"I think I got its attention." he murmured through his food.

[Paragon]

Dorian stared in silence at Jensen's careless actions. Did this man have a death wish? Regardless, Dorian couldn't deny that it got the dragon's attention. It looked down at the two standing atop the roof. Maybe now it would hear him?

"Dragon guy!" Dorian tried again in dragon-speak while waving his hands around. "Stop attacking the town! Let's talk about this!"

It continued to look down upon them unfettered, its great wings flapping in sharp bursts of fury. Dorian sighed. Maybe it was too angry to listen? Maybe there was something wrong with his dragon-speak? However, the dragon appeared to be changing its course. It was facing them entirely now, but Dorian still couldn't make out its features. Suddenly, its wings stopped flapping entirely and it was dropping from the sky. His eyebrows raised themselves in confusion, but for some reason his hand was instinctively reaching for the contracted spear on his belt. He's felt this sense of foreboding before, and it only meant one thing:

He was about to be attacked.

The dragon's wings suddenly changed their angle, and in one fluid motion its body arched from a falling motion to a gliding one towards the two on the roof. Looks like it wasn't too pleased by Jensen's attack. As it was flying in, Dorian finally got a good look at it. It had two great horns growing up from its forehead, arcing slightly downwards at their tips. Many more smaller horns were behind the initial two. It had reptilian yellow eyes, a line of spikes down its spine, bat-like wings with a long tail, and jet black scales all over its body. Before he knew it, Dorian had drawn his spear and expanded it to its usual length.

Holding it with both hands and spinning it around, a thought occurred to him, 'What the hell am I doing?'

After shaking his head at Jensen, he jumped off the roof and tried to grab onto one of the clotheslines that existed between houses. The line snapped immediately, sending him awkwardly tumbling down to the next clothesline. He managed to put his spear above his head with one hand and grab it with the other just in time to feel it hit the thread and quickly shimmy him across into the window of the other building. Luckily for him, the window was open and he fell through onto the floor. The only effect was him smelling slightly cleaner. However, the roof of the house he was on was completely gone. The dragon passed through it like it was butter, sending entire chunks of wood spraying every which way. The house he occupied was empty due to evacuation, so he easily got out the front door and looked back up into the sky.

As much as he'd like to grab onto the dragon and establish that psychic link with Malanthar, he wasn't going to let his body get crushed into a million little pieces in the process. He wondered if Jensen made it off the roof in time.

Meanwhile, Fallow stared out the open window into the carnage from Dorian's inn room. He thought about what he could possibly do to help.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen’s eyes narrowed as he watched the boy flee, the colossal terror of the black dragon lunging towards them both. He felt his ire for the boy grow as he dropped his apple and ran into the flames of the burning home, wanting to put distance between himself and the winged titan.

“Talk to dragons, huh? What, does this one have a foreign accent?” Jensen shouted as he ran through the blaze, coughing after he spoke his insult as the black smoke filtered into his lungs. He hugged himself as he ran hoping to keep the worst affects of the flames away, feeling blisters form on his skin as he jumped into an already crumbling wall and knocking it over. He rolled down the makeshift ramp dousing out any flames that caught onto his coat as he pulled himself up with throwing knives in each hand.

The dragon had ignored him for the time being and he used that opening to check his surroundings. Along the east side he found a pole he could climb to run along the roof tops so he could be parallel with the beast. He nodded once as he sprinted, jumping onto the pole and forcing himself to climb quickly as he shoved one of his knives into his mouth letting the other fan out on his finger like an ostentatious ring.

When he hit the top he moved swiftly, his feet traveling upon the edges of rooftops as he jumped over gaps and made way to save the town from this hideous monstrosity. He let laughter build up in his stomach but he didn’t let it out yet as he jumped one last time, lifting his hands wide in the air. He gripped the edge of a building and his body slammed into it, the knife in his mouth lightly cutting the sides of his lips as they bled in thin lines down his face. He pulled himself up with a groan of effort and charged again until he was directly parallel with the dragon.

“Let’s try this again,” Jensen shouted as he pulled the knife out of his mouth and aimed carefully this time. With all his might and skill he threw the dagger forwards as it flew. He took his other one and prepared to toss it again as he waited with baited breath for the first to connect. This time he had hit the mark as the eye of the dragon blinked furiously, crimson life force showering down below. It clawed the air as its wings beat furiously, fanning the flames down as the beasts tail slammed into the the side of buildings knocking them apart in a shower of debris and rubble. Dust lifted into the air like a ghost taking flight from a dead body and Jensen aimed with his other knife.

He never got the chance to throw it as the beasts tail whipped him in the chest with full force, breaking every rib in his body as he flew upwards into the air getting the bird’s eye view of the town. He tumbled in mid flight, rolling in the sky as he plummeted downwards towards the inn he had stayed at, his hands viciously sprayed out in a desperate act to cling to something to save him. He had no breath in his lungs and he coughed up blood. at last his free fall had ended falling head first into the building.

Jensen’s world didn’t have time to experience anything as he saw a flash of white, and then nothing but darkness.

[Paragon]

Dorian could see something in the sky, but he couldn't make it out. He squinted to see, and his expression was about to turn to shock when his focus was interrupted by Fallow.

The dragonling flapped around next to him and spoke into his mind, "Dorian! It looks like the dragon is hurt and is flying away!"

Dorian, trying to hide his exasperation, replied quickly, "Could you do me a favor and follow it, little buddy? At least until you see it start circling around."

Fallow knew that he could not keep up for very long with his little body, but he nodded and took off immediately. Dorian then heard a loud crashing sound and looked in the direction of the inn.

'That shape in the sky... was it him?'

He slammed the inn's doors open and ran in. Coughing from the sudden dust storm that filled the air from the destruction, his trip lead him to the room that was caved in. The door and wall was in pieces, creating just a pile of rubble. Inside, he saw something that made his eyes widen and his lip quiver.

"Jensen!" He yelled, running over to the man and kneeling down.

The man's body was twisted up, blood pouring from all his wounds. His bones were most certainly broken, and he was starting to turn blue.

'He's not breathing!'

Panicked, Dorian felt around for a pulse. His own heart skipped a beat when he couldn't find one. After all, who could survive a fall like that?

"Damn it, Jensen..." He said, standing up with his hands stained in the man's blood. "Were you so selfless that you gave up your own life for these people as well as the reward?" Maybe this man was seemed like he knew what he was doing was simply reckless with a death wish.

After seeing this, Dorian thought about his own mortality. How long would he survive against this dragon? Even Malanthar warned against this. Dorian turned around and starting walking out of the room, stepping over the broken boards and pieces of debris. Jensen's sacrifice was not going to be in vain.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The smell of burning wood filled his nostrils, and a blank expression lit his face up as he woozily shook his head, feeling a stiffness in his muscles as he groggily coughed and slumped back to his chest. He stumbled upwards like a zombie, groaning loudly as he ached from head to toe, forcing his will to reassert dominance over his twitching nerves.

It took several minutes, but when he was aware of his body again he looked to his right, seeing three people look to him like he were a ghost. He turned his head behind him, wondering what they saw, and realized they were indeed looking to him.

“Uh, hi?” Jensen waved his fingers weakly, chuckling. Two of them screamed bloody murder, dropped the tools they carried, and ran like hell away from him screaming about the walking dead. Only a little girl remained behind, holding her blanket in one hand and sucking her thumb with the other, eyes watering up with curiosity.

Jensen walked up to the child, bending over and ruffling her hair just a bit as she looked to him, not changing her expression in the slightest. He reached into his pockets, found nothing there, and then sighed as he looked out over the area to see if his mercenary comrade had died.

“You are supposed to be asleep, mister,” the girl said matter-of-factly.

“Well I felt like waking up,” Jensen replied.

“My mommy says if you wake up too early, you’re supposed to go back to sleep.”

“Well you mommy is a smart one isn’t she. I slept long enough kid. Don’t worry about me.” The immortal lifted himself up to his full height as he looked around to see a grouping of dead bodies near the now half destroyed inn. Within two more days worth of attacking this town was going to be scrapped into nothing, no hopes of starting over again being possible as the dragon torches the last few buildings.

Angrily he beat his hand into his fist, thinking of how stupid the mayor was being. The asshole was getting innocent people killed for no reason, at least any reason he couldn’t think of at the moment. He walked past the kid, ruffling her hair as she giggled following the mister who woke up from naps early. The immortal scratched the back of his head looking left and right before he found what he found something glinting on the ground next to a shattered hay cart. He stooped over, lifting a bloodied throwing glaive from the mess and pocketed it onto his belt as he turned back to the inn.

“Whatcha doin?” the girl asked.

“Going to kill the big bad dragon.”

“Mommy says killing is bad.” Jensen smiled.

“Right you are, so instead I’ll just put it to sleep.”

“Oh, okay.” She nodded. “Why?”

“So he won’t hurt anymore people.”

“Hurting people-”

“Is bad, cause mommy says so, right?” Jensen turned to her as he continued to walk, chuckling. The girl shook her head.

“No, my teacher Ms. Samantha said so.” she replied, giggling. Jensen shook his head as he entered into the Inn. The owner looked up from his pile of debris, seeing the immortal standing before him with a look of shock.

“They told me you were dead,” he whispered.

“Rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated. Kid Dorian, where is he?” The girl smiled, feeling like a sidekick. She stood defiantly next to Jensen, prepared to cry if need be. She held her blanket tightly in her hand like it were a weapon, her thumb ready to be sucked on a moments notice. Before long she was sucking it. Jensen just shook his head to her, looking back to the owner.

“He’s in his room.” Jensen nodded once turning to the girl.

“Go back to mommy, kid. I’ll call you if I need anything.” The girl gave him a nod and ran off, as Jensen waved her goodbye. He turned the hallway and walked down the burnt path where he stopped before Dorian’s room, noticing his was still a charred wreck. When he reached the oak wood he pounded on it twice and opened the door with a shove, walking into his room.

“Get up, kid. This time we’re doing it my way.” Jensen spoke with authority.

[Paragon]

Jensen blinked twice. Where did the the kid go? He wasn't out for that long, but... could Dorian have gone out to the island by himself?

Over at the island on the lake, Dorian's canoe pulled up to shore. He stepped across the front and jumped onto the sand, looking back and reigning the boat in. With his heavy breathing, sweat poured down his face. He was paddling so hard that his arms were sore. Spotting a nearby clump of shrubs, he dragged it over and hid it in the greenery. He didn't have a whole lot of time before the dragon returned, so he began looking for its nest.

A little while ago, Dorian had left the battered Jensen and went straight to the mayor's office. He walked in and noticed the mayor pacing about nervously.

"I had a feeling you were still here," Dorian said, prompting the mayor to look at him with lowered brows of concern. "I'll make this quick: I need a boat."

"Why?" asked the mayor. "The dragon isn't..."

"Trust me," Dorian interrupted. "I can't prove it right now, but I know for a fact that it's going to be back there. It's no coincidence that its first attack destroyed the harbor."

The mayor shook his head, taking slow steps toward the young man, "Boy, what makes you think we have any boats left?"

"It rained recently," Dorian answered. He let the magnitude of the statement sink in to the mayor for a few moments.

The old man suddenly realized, "Oh! You're right. Some of the residents may have brought their boats back into their houses during that. Alright."

The two of them briskly moved to one of the houses still standing near the harbor. The mayor knocked on the door and a sullen man answered.

"Mayor?" he asked.

"John, I believe I remember you having a canoe. Please let this young man borrow it."

"Huh? What's all this about?"

"It's hope, John. You won't have much use for it if your home is gone in the next attack anyway."

"Well, if you say so."

Dorian thanked the men and they helped him drag it out to the water. He hopped in and grabbed hold of the paddles, but looked at the two men still on the shore.

With an inquisitive look, he asked, "Why haven't you two evacuated, anyway?"

They smiled, and the mayor replied for them, "This is our home, young man. We were born here, and one way or another we will die here. Many of the folk feel the same way."

In part, Dorian understood, but he couldn't justify that kind of thinking. Escaping would mean living another day, having another chance. He had to make sure to definitely end this terror.

Halfway to the island, Dorian was starting to get tired. This is when he noticed that Fallow was coming into view from the distance.

"Dorian! He's starting to turn around!"

The little dragonling finally came back in telepathic range. Dorian thought about Jensen, and how the man predicted this course of action. It was his theory that Dorian trusted and based this whole plan on.

'Looks like you were right, Jensen. I never doubted you even for a moment.'

He was coming up on the shore. It was time.

[Paragon]

He looked back at the moonlight piercing through the clouds to illuminate the lake. Out here, the view was extraordinary. To his sides he could see some of the multi-colored flowers, dancing in the night breeze. He stepped off the shore and into a field of tulip, lavender, calla, lilac, and many others. This little island was an anomaly of beauty, and were it not for his mission Dorian could very well have been lost in it. He took a deep breath and moved on, exploring the hilly landscape.

He climbed up a ridge and looked around for what could possibly resemble a nest. It wasn't as though the dragon originally lived here, so it was likely to be make-shift and not well hidden. Stones cracked under his shoes as he walked around, his eyes trying to adjust in the darkness.

Fallow was finally back at his side, and the little dragonling seemed exhausted trying to keep up with the larger beast, "Dorian... what, what are you planning?"

"Don't worry about it, little buddy," Dorian replied with a smile. "Just sit tight and hide somewhere for a while. Once I find its nest..."

"Oh! When I was flying over, I think I see what looked like a cave."

"Are you sure?"

As a young dragon, Fallow had superior vision in the dark. He had a bird's eye view of the entire island.

"I'll lead you to it!"

Running over to the dark opening at the end of a protruding rocky extension from a hill, Dorian patted Fallow on the head and grinned like a maniac.

"You're a real life-saver, you know that? Now Fallow, I need you to do me a favor... and leave the rest up to me."

"But!"

"No buts. We got the element of surprise on our side, and it's a lot easier to surprise with one than two. Can you do me this one favor, little buddy?"

"... ... Alright," Fallow finally agreed. The dragonling started to reluctantly fly away to safety when he stopped and asked, "Where's that weird man you were with?"

Dorian looked down for a moment, but then looked back at the dragonling and answered, "He wouldn't understand what we're doing. If I never met you... I may have been the same way."

Hiding behind some of the rocks above the cave entrance, Dorian made his presence as obscure as possible. He put his hand near the handle of spear and crouched down with his back against the rocks.

Not long after, he heard the sound of slow flapping in the air. He heard the ground tremble under the weight of the dragon's mighty claws. The crunching of the claws crushing the earth with each mighty step echoed throughout Dorian's head, with each sound getting louder and louder. He gripped the spear's handle tighter, sweat pouring down his cheeks.

'Just a little closer... come on... come on...'

He was about to make his move, but the dragon suddenly stopped several meters in front of the cave entrance. Its head swung around from one side to the other, its one good eye scanning its surroundings. Did it sense him? It didn't occur to him that dragons may have had more ways than just sight and hearing to detect intruders. Dorian swallowed hard, and a chill ran down his spine. His jig may have been up.

[Enigmatic Immortal]

The dragon moved throughout the area, sniffling the air as it peered around the tops of the trees trying to determine what exactly the smell was. It was a smell it knew very well, but couldn’t place. Irritated it turned from the cave looking over the area with it’s one good eye. A soft grumble of frustration escaped its mouth as well as a few wisps of fiery breath.

What was that odor? It was strong and crisp, filling its nostrils with confusion as it glanced to the west.

There it was! Smoke was rising into the air like the gasping breath of a dying man. The smell was fire! That was what it was smelling. Feeling cunning for finding the source of its frustrations it prepared to make an attack.

The same eye was hit by another throwing weapon, and the dragon squealed in agony as it roared loudly into the sky slashing around the trees.

Earlier

“Kid?” Jensen asked stepping into the room. It was empty. Mentally he sighed resting his body on the wall, taking a deep breath as he figured what the kid was about to do. Knowing the kids bravado and desire with the dragon, Jensen figured he would be heading to the island and trying to reason with the beast.

Turning quickly Jensen marched down the hall, his boots crunching the wood and debris underneath him. He turned to the innkeeper, who was still uneasy around the immortal, and pointed to him.

“What’s the fastest boat in this dump?” The man sneered to him distrustfully, about to turn away and Jensen shook his head quickly moving towards him. “I’m not trying to escape you old sack of bones! I just want to get to the island and prevent that kid from being dragon chow mein, got it?” Hesitantly the older man looked behind him before he leaned in closer to Jensen.

“Rumors have it that one of the town blacksmiths and an alchemist got together and created a prototype boat that runs off boiling water. Steam powered. Like the big airships, but this engine is smaller!” He said excitedly. Jensen just kept his gaze on the man, but softened his look. “Well I happen to know it’s not a rumor. We all went fishing on the week before these dragon attacks started. It’s not going to go at the speed of hummingbird, but it will be a smooth, consistent sail. Far faster than mere rowing with even two deckhands.”

“Take me to it!”

“Well, that’s the problem. I think the alchemist took his creation and fled at the first sight. The blacksmith is a part of this town, so he naturally wanted to stay, but the alchemist was from Alerar. He didn’t feel any particular loyalty to stay.” Jensen slammed his fist on the table and turned away.

“Dammit, it I have to swim I’ll do it!” Jensen began walking away towards the entrance, but heard the crunching of wood and the sprinting of feet. The innkeeper was next to him, leading him by the arm as Jensen hurried his steps to keep up with the elder man.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the smithy.” He urged the immortal on as he moved, dragging him back to the eastern side of town pushing pass the throng of confused and disillusioned people. Cries for the gods to save them from this filled the air and Jensen thought how silly they were being, a stupid grin on his face as he suppressed the urge to laugh in their faces.

When they rounded a corner of the town they found the blacksmiths shop. It’s thatched roof was all but gone, the chimney was still functional, but pieces of it were missing and it didn’t seem to stand as tall as it once did in this world. The door was hanging by a wire, literally, draped in the front to make a strange swinging door effect. Jensen walked in and observed the smell of industry, gazing upon the tools that were littered everywhere. Several anvils were knocked over and barrels were crashed open or burnt to cinders. All that remained was one larger anvil, the prime blacksmiths anvil, that held upon it the oddest looking contraption. Jensen eyed it and looked around, observing the design with a keen eye as the innkeeper looked for the blacksmith.

“What do you want?” a gruff voice came from the darkened corner. The innkeeper stepped forward.

“Harry, this is the mercenary who’s helping us fight the dragon. Rumors say he even is doing it for free.”

“Some help you are, jackass.” Harry mumbled. “Just buried two more apprentices from the last attack. Hey, feel free to actually do something whenever you-” There was a slight tussle as Jensen’s fist flew into the man’s face, followed by several gut punches until he held the stronger man by the throat against a wall.

“Jensen Ambrose,” the immortal said flawlessly with a Cheshire smile. “Now that we declared you’re an asshole and I’m a jackass, we both can move forward!” He released the man’s throat and turned looking at the contraption on the anvil again. “I’m guessing this is another one of your steam powered motors. A larger build it seems, for a larger boat no doubt. This would be way to heavy for a mere fishing boat.”

Harry looked at Jensen with scornful eyes, but with a respectful nod he stepped forward. “Good eye for technology, eh?” Jensen nodded to the man.

“It’s kind of a hobby. Though I love disassembling things more than creating them…” he admitted with a chuckle as he peered closer into the workings. “All your tubes are fused together, why?”

“Ah, that’s compliments of the dragon.” Harry said stepping forward. Jensen shook his head.

“So what more needs to be done?” Jensen asked.

“Don’t know, that blasted elf ran with the schematics and took off on the prototype. I’m going off memory.” Harry said angrily as he thought about how the elf sucker punched him and ran off. Jensen stood upright at the mention of the elven race, his racial intolerance of them coming to the fore.

“Filthy bush lickers,” Jensen spat. “Okay, I think you got the shell made, now we need to add in the components. Where is the chamber for holding the water?” Jensen asked as he and Harry began to work on the engine together. The innkeeper, who was named Sal, joined in, helping where he could and gathering more townsfolk together. Supplies were built by Harry and the last four remaining apprentices all built what Jensen asked for, his fingers dancing along the papers as he designed the sketches and thought about the mechanics involved.

It took almost all day, but at last with another successful tug of the cord the engine sputtered into life, steam rising in the air. Harry slapped Jensen on the back, but the immortal just merely patted the bigger man on the shoulder. Every idea the knight had come up with he ran by Harry, who would either deny that it could work, citing an experiment he had done before, or agree that his idea sounded a lot like what they came up with. A few tweaks there, a few added support pipes there, and the engine looked like a small city, but it would do.

When it was on the water Harry and Sal were on board, waving goodbye as the motor sputtered into life in the water and dragged off, before puttering out. Angrily Jensen observed Harry cussing out a storm as he tinkered with it, before the immortal kicked with all his might into the front of the engine. With a soft putter it roared back into life, purring like a kitten.

They were off and on their way to the island, moving rather fast for the boats size. Their contraption worked, but it was far from masterwork quality. If anything Jensen pondered if all they really did half the time was put a few band aids on areas and pray for the best. Several times they had to stop the engine and fill it with water and let the engine boil it up in the fires below, making sure to protect the furnace from the wind with their bodies as they fed the fire with flint and other debris they could find. It took the last rays of sunlight to reach the island, but they had made it.

When they disembarked Jensen ordered Sal to watch the boat and keep the tiny furnace roaring, and Harry to come with him. The island seemed like a tiny paradise, the trees swaying in the breeze, after a half hours worth of running Jensen stopped Harry and ordered the man to start a fire, a huge fire, as big as he could get it. The bon fire would lure the dragon out, which Jensen knew deep within his gut that it would be resting here.

Well, he really hoped, otherwise one island paradise would be torched for no good reason that he could lie about later.

As Harry went to work, Jensen moved towards the center of the island where the small mountain protrusion came from and sprinted with all he had. Dorian was a crazy child, thinking he could talk to dragons, and god only knew what trouble he may already had been in. Collateral damage was always frowned upon by his order. He didn’t particularly care for the boy, but he knew deep in his gut that he should look out for him. Never one to disobey his gut, the immortal increased his speed.

At last he saw the dragon flying over the mountain, looping back, and Jensen saw it was heading right for the island. He pushed his body as fast as it would go, breathing heavily as he darted up into a tree and made preparations. He used vines and tied them tight around the base of the tree, jumping to another and climbing if need be until he created a complex web of vines secured to the trees. He rose to the top of the tallest in the area, scouting the terrain when he saw a small person above the cave mouth.

The dragon was inches from the cave, and one wrong move and Dorian would be caught. Panicking Jensen lifted himself to his full height, preparing to throw the dagger in his hand. His diversion worked rather well, the dragon sniffing the air as it turned it’s head profile to Jensen.

“Suck on this!” He whispered tossing it.

Present

The dragon thrashed about, turning towards where the offending weapon had been thrown from, and angrily it stampeded towards the tiny human on the tree. Blood trickled down it’s face and it licked it’s tongue to taste the dense coppery taste, fueling it’s drive to kill this man who blinded its eye.

Jensen hopped down from the tree in one motion, landing from branch to branch like a gymnast as he hollered for help, but more in a maddening way. The dragon heard his cries of mirth, enraged a mere human would find him so sporting a target. He increased his speed, moving right towards the trap without even thinking of seeing it, it’s rage focused on the clown of a human who defied him.

He would make a tasty treat, it concluded as it passed by a set of trees near Dorian.

[Paragon]

With his back against the rock and his heart beating intensely, Dorian's eyes shifted to and fro in nervous confusion. When he heard the dragon's roar of rage, he was about to run. Yet, the powerful stomping grew further from his hiding place. Was there someone else here? He peeked around the edge of the rock and couldn't believe his eyes.

'Jensen?! But I thought he was... I mean... what the hell is going on here?!'

More importantly, Jensen was in danger. Dorian had to help, but he didn't know how. He readied his spear, extending it and holding it at his side. Then, he noticed that Jensen was running past him. There was no telling if the two of them were fully aware of each other, but Dorian saw the opportunity.

As the dragon passed underneath, Dorian leaped from the rocks, pointing his spear down. This special dragon spear was one that could pierce through solid stone given the right downward momentum, and he could see the his target: The dragon's wings. He fell down, eyes focused and will unwavering. He was about to reach his target, but the dragon vanished right from under his eyes. He struck into the soil, causing cracks in the ground and a brief rumbling. The tip of the spear was jammed into the ground, and the force of the impact was enough to strain his body. The next moment, he saw a massive dragon claw head for him.

SLAM! He was sent flying into a nearby tree, impaled by one of the dragon's long claws from its forelimbs. The claw was embedded deep in his gut. He shook from the pain, his consciousness fading. However, he wasn't done yet.

With blood dripping out of his mouth, he struggled with the words, "I... got you!"

Wrapping his arms around the dragon's claw and accompanying paw, he grinned with all his strength and felt the nauseating effect of the psychic connection he had created. His vision blurred, and he could see the dragon's mouth hanging open, ready to burn him to a crisp.

The dragon was ready to burn this little insect alive, when he suddenly found himself in a huge castle throne room. He spun around, snarling with bewilderment in the foggy, marble quarters. It was an enormous place, with the ceiling several stories high and enough width to fit a row of a dozen wagons. The dragon looked up and saw two large glowing emerald orbs in the fog. They were coming closer and closer, and suddenly a giant black dragon forearm came crashing down in front of the smaller dragon. The massive face of the ruler of black dragons Malanthar came into view, his head littered with horns, creases, and wrinkles of age. The one-eyed dragon was visible stunned, backing up slower and cowering in the presence of this mighty creature. The front body of Malanthar emerged from the fog, white smoke coming out of his nostrils after each breath.

He looked down upon the smaller dragon and said, "Why do you terrorize the humans?"

With one eye closed shut, the reply came, "None of them deserve to live for what they have done to me!"

"I am Malanthar, young one, and I order you to go back to your home."

The dragon shook with fear, but blurted out, "No! I-I don't quite know what's going on, but I refuse! My mother... when I lost her, I couldn't take it anymore. Because of them... I'm alone!"

Malanthar's great form towered even in the huge room, his great wings spreading and dispersing the fog around him.

His long neck leaned down low and he put his face up to the smaller dragon's and said, "Your mother overcame an impossible hatred to bring you into this world, and this is how you repay her?"

The ground shook, the very air vibrating with Malanthar's anger. He knew all too well what this young dragon was feeling, but that was no reason to become feral.

"I don't know," said the rampaging black dragon. He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Listen to me, young one. These mammals are not long-lived creatures. The ones who imprisoned us, who hunted us down are no longer in this world. Do not let the sins of the past cloud your future. You must craft your own place in this new world with your own volition."

"I... understand. Where can I meet you, mighty one? I thought you had been killed long ago..."

"My son is with you now. I am working on my return, so until then be patient and live a peaceful life. If not for me, if not for your mother, then for yourself. Our brood depends on it."

The fog grew once more, engulfing both the dragons so deeply that the smaller dragon's next vision was of his claw in the young man's chest. He slowly pulled the claw out, letting Dorian fall to the ground.

"Dorian!" screamed Fallow into the young man's mind.

He flew up to Dorian and landed beside him, urging him to get up. The black dragon was now fully aware of himself, and saw the little dragonling. Despite the spell of illusion around Fallow, other dragons could see him. He saw the mighty expression of Malanthar in the little dragonling, and could finally see the folly of his ways.

Bracing himself, the dragon extended his wings and flew up into the air, looking down and saying, "I'm sorry," before flying away.

"Jensen," Dorian turned to his side, gasping for breath. "It's over. D, don't worry about it." Despite his condition, Dorian was more concerned that Jensen knew that the dragon was no longer a threat. He turned so that he was lying on his back, his hands bloody and clutching his gut. He grinned. "See? I t, told you dragons were r, reasonable."

[Enigmatic Immortal]

Jensen looked down upon the broken form of the kid, and instead of resting and gathering his strength he had to go and be a smartass. With a grin he leaned down and ruffled the boy’s hair, chuckling as he put on a more serious face.

“I’m guessing you think you won some kind of bet, huh?” Jensen joked with a straight face. He exaggerated a long sigh before he began to aid Dorian in standing up, draping his arm over his shoulder and dragging him along the dirt. “Well, I don’t recall one, but I guess as a consolation prize I can get you to a doctor for your stupid ass theories of dragon education.”

The boy only smiled, before closing his eyes and the immortal shook his head as he moved him quickly and swiftly. It was difficult, navigating the land, but the smoke trail left by the bon fire was enough for Jensen to use as a compass to find the blacksmith and once the man leant his arms for support carrying Dorian became a fast breeze.

“What happened, is it over?” Jensen nodded jiggling Dorian and looking back at the hungry flames. He estimated they would die out overnight, as Harry was careful not burn the whole place down. Strange that, Jensen would have lit this island up like a new years festival.

“This brat of a kid just had to prove me wrong…So let’s get him to the makeshift medical center, shall we?” Harry agreed and they reached the speedboat where Sal stood up, thanking the gods he had seen them all returning safely. Jensen let Sal take over for him while he looked at the motor, kicking it a couple times and pulling the cord until it started purring again.

“I wouldn’t bother selling this thing.” Jensen teased to Harry who laughed lifting Dorian onto the boat. Once they were all inside they pushed off into the water, set the oars out to get them a decent pace away, and dropped the motor in the water. Nothing. Jensen sighed standing up again and lifting his boot in warning. The engine quickly began functioning again as the boat sped off, and Jensen turned to look back at the kid.

He didn’t know why, but the child kind of grew on him. He saw a lot of his own resolve in the child mercenary, and he was destined for greatness. That much he could tell. Maybe even find his way into the sights of the Knights of Apocalypse, but now he was just resting his weary eyes. Jensen looked over the cool waves of the ocean, feeling the chill breeze wash across his skin. The tangy smell of sea salt filtered into his nostrils and he sighed in pleasure. The little things in life, he thought blissfully.

In the shifting breeze, he couldn’t pin point it or ever come to understand it, but he heard the faintest of whispers, as if from something above the child Dorian. Jensen looked to the spot he thinking he should have seen something, but nothing was there. Still, the words at last formed in his ear.

Thank you. Jensen listened to the words, shrugged indifferently and continued to monitor his engine to threaten with his boot if the time ever came. It took until four in the morning, but at last they returned home. They all lifted Dorian up, carefully so not to wake him, though Jensen knew this wasn’t a possibility. The kid was passed out and tired from his adventure. He wouldn’t be waking up until he got the needed rest. They carried him to the inn, the doctor came to check on him, and Jensen turned around walking away towards the hallway.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked stepping to catch the immortal. Jensen pushed his hand away gently.

“I’ve accomplished my orders. My mission is done.”

“Mission?” Harry repeated dumbly, giving him a confused look.

“Yep, mission. I’m from a secret order. Do me a favor and keep the kid resting until all his injuries heal.”

“You want to say goodbye to the tyke first?” Sal spoke reverently stepping forwards. Jensen gave the two men a respectful nod before walking away again.

“I don’t do goodbyes. I don’t do friendship. I do my own thing. I won’t tell that kid he did a great job, that he showed me that even beasts have a heart, and that life is jolly if you put your all into the cause. I don’t believe that. I think he got lucky, he’s stupid for trying what he did, and even if it worked I’ll never give him the satisfaction of hoarding it over my head. And I especially will not give the boy the impression he is my friend. We were comrades for a common goal, but now that goal is done with.”

“At least take some sort of reward for your efforts!” Sal mentioned weakly.

“Your town is a shell of its former crapiness. It went from a total pile of garbage to fermented pile of compost. Take what few coins you have left, invest it in rebuilding, and maybe, just maybe you can take this turd of a dump and shine it up real nice and get the holiest of all craps, the coveted golden turd! Though just remember this, and open your ears so you get it memorized,” Jensen paused so the two men could listen well. “A shiny turd, is still just a turd!” Jensen lifted up both thumbs with a wild smile before turning on his heel walking away.

History would eventually remember this day, this moment. They will speak in their tales of two men, who dared to fight against a dragon and save their town. History would erect a small, insubstantial monument with Dorian’s name, but Jensen? No, history would eventually forget the jerk, which was fine with him.

He was immortal, he wouldn’t forget the real story; The story of the boy who tamed a dragon.

[Paragon]

Dorian slowly opened his eyes as if he had awakened from a deep sleep. He tried to sit up but felt a sharp pain in his gut that sent his bed back into his pillow. His wound was all bandaged up, but it still hurt like hell.

"Dorian!" came Fallow's telepathic yell into his mind. "You're awake! I was so worried..."

Licking his dry lips, Dorian looked to see his trusty little buddy by his side.

He smiled and put his hand on the dragonling's head, "Sorry." Worrying was not something he wanted to put on anyone's mind, not the people he left back home or here.

He looked around the makeshift hospital. It was a noble's mansion that had fled the town long ago, now used to house the wounded from the dragon attacks. The grand atrium was filled with sleeping mats and physicians, the hallways lined with the sick, and the bedrooms picked clean for all available sheets and just about anything soft... except this one. It seems they left this one alone just for Dorian. He was in a queen-size bed with all the trimmings; Silk sheets, curtains hung around it, and fluffy pillows. He felt that this was a bit much. He was no different than any of the brave townspeople who protected their homes and families.

He was still groggy and his voice stuttered, "Fallow... I saw a vision. The dragon and your father... their conversation."

"I saw it too," said the young dragon.

"What did he mean by... overcame an impossible hatred?"

Fallow was silent for a moment, but then explained, "Our brood possesses great psychic abilities. This extends even into our eggs. The only way for the eggs to grow and eventually hatch into newborn black dragons is for them to have a constant supply of positive psychic waves over a long period of time. When we became bitter, angry, or depressed, these waves cannot possibly be created and the process starts all over again."

"So, you have to drop everything and have only love?"

"You can put it that way. This is very hard for a long-lived dragon, especially after what happened to our kind. We are known to be... vengeful creatures. That dragon's mother must have only recently forgiven the humans with all her mind and soul. He only looked about fifty."

'So, your father too, only recently...'

"Wait, fifty? That's young to you guys? I'll be damned. Lucky for me you're still a little guy."

Fallow didn't reply. Dorian did not know it, but this form did not mimic the dragonling's actual appearance. This body was made small and linked to Fallow's mind for the sake of expediency for travel. In reality, the dormant Fallow back in Malanthar's castle was just as big as the black dragon they saw.

A couple days later, Dorian decided to bid farewell to the village. He was left with an encore of hooting and hollering by grateful residents, feeling guilty that Jensen was not getting the same treatment. He was told that Jensen left right away and that aside from a couple of townsfolk, people didn't really remember him. Maybe that was due to Dorian being bedridden that people came to know of him, but it was still unfair to Jensen. Although, maybe that was the crazy immortal's intention all along. He heard that a little girl saw the man rise up from the rubble unharmed, but decided to put the thought into the back of his mind.

'Fallow's kind is not allowed to come into this world unless it is through the sheer force of love and compassion. If humans were like that, maybe we too could learn to forgive one another.'

I'd like Malanthar to give Dorian The Hydra Lance next time he visits the castle. It's a special lance whose tip is crafted from a dragon fang (Equivalent Quality: Steel? I don't know what category fangs go under.) and has a ring of 8 dragon heads that begins just under the tip. Each of these dragon heads will eventually have a unique ability that they add to the lance, but the first one has the ability to transform the lance just into the 2-inch dragon head itself, which can be worn around the belt. The Hydra Lance's special ability is being able to transform into the dragon head at will and magically return to the owner, allowing Dorian to throw the lance and bring it back to him. Lances are pretty easy to dodge so I figured this wouldn't be a lot to ask.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP was added.