Trouble Seems to Follow Chapter 4
Sunday, June 22nd, 2014 08:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sleetgeekartist posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mindcrackloveAN: Sorry I couldn't get this out yesterday! Things were kind of busy for me, I barely managed to finish writing it before falling asleep. But here it is, even if you all wanted to read it sooner.
Anders looked over the map laid out on the table before him. He shuffled around the various figurines decorating the area around the border between Dalania and Nordenne, figuring out the perfect attack strategy that wouldn’t get most of his army, which was constructed mainly of village recruits, killed. Perhaps place the infantry here, the archers on this hill, no, no, there’s a huge breach to the left that Davion’s forces could easily take advantage of! Anders flung the pieces onto the floor in frustration, causing many of the ceramic soldiers to lose their heads. He crashed his fists onto the table, huffing in frustration.
A strange sound issued from the dark halls of the sky castle, echoing through the wooden halls. The clack of cloven hooves, the creak of bones, raising the hair on the back of Anders’s neck. The scent of rotting pig flesh began to fill the room, as a cloud of cavern gasses laying waste to canaries. The clacking ceased as a snort signaled the entrance of whomever, or whatever, was causing the noise.
“Greetings, mighty King Anders of Nordenne, ruler of the Sky Vikings. Your reputation exceeds you.” A voice from behind the addressed king, who was hunched over the table in a primal stance in case this intruder happened to be an attacker. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am King Zisteau. My realms lay far from yours, yet I have caught wind of your recent exploits and wish to offer you counsel in this trying time.”
Anders turned around. He was met with the image of this foreign king, and what he saw turned his stomach. The smell, which had only gotten stronger, was issuing from the rotting pig flesh clinging to yellowing bones. Much about this intruder was porcine, from his snout to his cloven hooves. From the hollow cavern of his right eye socket issued a dim red light. “Y-You’re-“
“Yes, my appearance can be a bit off-putting,” That’s the understatement of the century, “but I assure you I am harmless. I am only here to assist you in your war efforts.”
“How did you get in here?” Anders asked, trying to calm his breathing. “What are you? From what depths of Helheim have you sprung from?”
Zisteau sighed. “I suppose I must start from the beginning.”
Within an hour, the wood was finished being split. Nebris loaded it all back into the cart and brought it into the house. The egg was sitting in a large stone bowl, flames surrounding either side. His research had revealed that only constant open flame could keep a dragon egg warm enough to hatch, so he constructed a furnace for the egg. The furnace, however, required a near constant supply of wood. Opening the grilled door at the side, Nebris began to load the fuel into the fire. He had barely loaded a quarter of the logs when he began to hear a loud tapping from the furnace. Worried that something may have gone wrong, he sprung to the stone bowl, standing as close as he could without the fire burning him.
A large crack had appeared down the side of the egg. Several more fissures and fractures spread along the surface, until a small, scaly head emerged. The beak-like mouth yawned, beginning to eat the eggshell and remaining egg white as the fires began to die down. By the time Nebris could reach the baby dragon, it had eaten almost all of the remainder of the egg. He lifted the reptilian infant, somewhat surprised at its weight. It was about the size of a newborn pup, and just as helpless. A quick examination revealed that the dragon was a female.
Nebris gazed at the creature in his arms, a smile beginning to form on his usually stoic face. Tears began to form in his eyes, the memory of her mother’s last moments resurfacing. He knew just what to name her in that moment.
‘Glydia.’
Anders looked over the map laid out on the table before him. He shuffled around the various figurines decorating the area around the border between Dalania and Nordenne, figuring out the perfect attack strategy that wouldn’t get most of his army, which was constructed mainly of village recruits, killed. Perhaps place the infantry here, the archers on this hill, no, no, there’s a huge breach to the left that Davion’s forces could easily take advantage of! Anders flung the pieces onto the floor in frustration, causing many of the ceramic soldiers to lose their heads. He crashed his fists onto the table, huffing in frustration.
A strange sound issued from the dark halls of the sky castle, echoing through the wooden halls. The clack of cloven hooves, the creak of bones, raising the hair on the back of Anders’s neck. The scent of rotting pig flesh began to fill the room, as a cloud of cavern gasses laying waste to canaries. The clacking ceased as a snort signaled the entrance of whomever, or whatever, was causing the noise.
“Greetings, mighty King Anders of Nordenne, ruler of the Sky Vikings. Your reputation exceeds you.” A voice from behind the addressed king, who was hunched over the table in a primal stance in case this intruder happened to be an attacker. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am King Zisteau. My realms lay far from yours, yet I have caught wind of your recent exploits and wish to offer you counsel in this trying time.”
Anders turned around. He was met with the image of this foreign king, and what he saw turned his stomach. The smell, which had only gotten stronger, was issuing from the rotting pig flesh clinging to yellowing bones. Much about this intruder was porcine, from his snout to his cloven hooves. From the hollow cavern of his right eye socket issued a dim red light. “Y-You’re-“
“Yes, my appearance can be a bit off-putting,” That’s the understatement of the century, “but I assure you I am harmless. I am only here to assist you in your war efforts.”
“How did you get in here?” Anders asked, trying to calm his breathing. “What are you? From what depths of Helheim have you sprung from?”
Zisteau sighed. “I suppose I must start from the beginning.”
---
The wheels of the cart squeaked as Nebris hauled freshly chopped branches to his chopping block. He stopped at the scarred stump, withdrawing the axe from its notch in the aged wood. He removed his shirt, wiping the sweat from his brow with the worn wool. Placing a single log on the stump, Nebris lifted the axe above his head, taking a deep breath before bringing it down hard onto the stump, dividing the log in half. He removed the split log, placing it in a pile near the door, and placed another log onto the stump. This process repeated several times, the sweat running down his back making his body gleam in the sun. For Nebris, this was a form of meditation, the repetitiveness of the action lulling him into a sense of tranquility, the stress on his muscles acting as a distraction from the stress on his mind. He focused on the action of each muscle, biceps contracting as he prepared the swing, relaxing as the blade came down.Within an hour, the wood was finished being split. Nebris loaded it all back into the cart and brought it into the house. The egg was sitting in a large stone bowl, flames surrounding either side. His research had revealed that only constant open flame could keep a dragon egg warm enough to hatch, so he constructed a furnace for the egg. The furnace, however, required a near constant supply of wood. Opening the grilled door at the side, Nebris began to load the fuel into the fire. He had barely loaded a quarter of the logs when he began to hear a loud tapping from the furnace. Worried that something may have gone wrong, he sprung to the stone bowl, standing as close as he could without the fire burning him.
A large crack had appeared down the side of the egg. Several more fissures and fractures spread along the surface, until a small, scaly head emerged. The beak-like mouth yawned, beginning to eat the eggshell and remaining egg white as the fires began to die down. By the time Nebris could reach the baby dragon, it had eaten almost all of the remainder of the egg. He lifted the reptilian infant, somewhat surprised at its weight. It was about the size of a newborn pup, and just as helpless. A quick examination revealed that the dragon was a female.
Nebris gazed at the creature in his arms, a smile beginning to form on his usually stoic face. Tears began to form in his eyes, the memory of her mother’s last moments resurfacing. He knew just what to name her in that moment.
‘Glydia.’
no subject
Date: Monday, June 23rd, 2014 12:21 am (UTC)And I can't wait to see how Nebris plays into everything.
no subject
Date: Monday, June 23rd, 2014 04:57 pm (UTC)BTW, the expression is "precedes" not "exceeds".