RP:A Dragon and Kelvarian

Part of the The Dawn of a New Era Arc

Synopsis: Lanara meets Brynhild for the first time due to an odd pull. Brynhild knows that Lanara isn't a "normal" elf by scent alone and seeks to discover the truth of this. Some poor bystander is stuck dealing with the red dragons impatience. The two female strangers however, have a polite discussion, where Brynhild learns of the existence of two more dragons. Hildegarde and Scandal.

A Dragon and Kelvarian

The bakery is in full swing at this hour, as everyone is fueling their morning rush with fresh baked goods and piping hot coffee. A petite brunette stands before the counter with a polar bear cub sitting atop her shoulders, pointing at a loaf of bread that was three times the size of his head. “No, Aspen. We don’t need a loaf that large. It’s only us now, remember?” She pauses, quirks a brow, and as though she’s communicating telepathically with the animal, she speaks her thoughts aloud, “Well, yes. Scoundrel would like some, too. But, he usually prefers meat.” The next number is called and she steps forward, fully prepared to place her order, when a brute of a man steps before the elf and places his own order. Lanara clears her throat and elbows the male in the side, “I believe –I- was next? I’ve been waiting for thirty minutes.” Clenching her jaw, she aims to stare the male down, doing her very best to appear intimidating. She looks adorable, and not at all menacing, especially with a bear tugging on her tapered ears. Those in the area know of Lana, and they know exactly what she’s capable of when someone is disrespectful. Silence fills the air, after most of the customers scram, deciding they don’t need baked goods, after all. The rude male turns to study the woman and the bear, gives a roll of his eyes, and returns to placing his order. Was there going to be a morning massacre at the bakery?!


Brynhild and her presence might be noted first by the shadow her humanoid form casts among the early morning crowd of people. Lastly the clanking of metal boots as they hit the hard pavement beneath them. She takes larger than life strides - as if busy with arriving at some unknown destination. Suddenly the warrioress comes to an abrupt halt, nearly colliding with a random civilian. “Watch where you’re goin miss,” but the Dragoness just stares into his eyes. Nay, she’s looking through his eyes from beyond the mask of her ever stoic visage that seems unable to crack a smile. He scrambles, despite her obvious beauty and perfection. Which is all just a simple ruse to disarm men and women alike, for she is so much more than just a human. Though this mild distraction has brought something else to her attention. She literally sniffs the air. Oh she’s not caught on the scent of breads and pastries, but something else entirely. What is that? She is entirely unaware of what would produce that odor. Its pleasant, yet foreign. Her booted feet begin to follow in pursuit, which eventually has her skirting passed worried civilians rushing out of the bakery. Brynhild however, meanders right on up to the duo, sniffing the male first. “No, it’s not him.” She attempts to turn her gaze, but she’s interrupted again. “Look at you lass, getting all close to big boy Edgar. Should I take you home?” Without even skipping a beat, his man bits are suddenly grasped in her hand, where he gives out an agonizing yelp. “Excuse me mortal, but I don’t have the time for your pitiful pick up lines.” She gives another extreme squeeze, revealing a hidden strength behind her otherwise dainty frame. “Now piss off before I cut ‘em off and stuff them down your throat.” Did someone say there would be a fight? Not likely, because he’s running out of the door the moment she releases him. Lanara, however, is given a sniff. It’s her. “Now I see where that smell was coming from. You’re an elf, but not one I’ve ever seen.”


Lanara is delighted when Brynhild steps into view, takes hold of Edgar’s family jewels, and speaks to him as though he were a mangy mutt begging for scraps. A smile threatens the edges of her lush lips, as the male guards his loins and flees from the bakery. None remain, aside from the trembling teenager behind the counter, the baker in the rear room, and the two women. Lanara is intent on getting her loaf of pumpernickel bread, and she even endures the strange sniffing from the blonde. What was with this chick? Was she a lesbian? She had shot down Edgar and nearly castrated him with her bare hands, and then that sought out the elf, based upon her scent. Aspen peers at Brynhild with curious eyes, his paw extending, as though he desired to make her acquaintance. Lana lifts her hands to remove the bear from around her neck and lowers him to the floor, where he stands bipedal and hugs her left leg. She warily eyes Bryn, undecided if her animal companion was in danger or not, let alone her own self. “Um. Thanks? I’m happy to see him gone. Now I can actually place my order.” A faint smile is given, as she points to the loaf she’d like, and the girl prepares to box it, for the journey home. The dragon is staring, her nose twitching as though she couldn’t quite place Lana’s kind, and whereas most would find this rather insulting, she the elf doesn’t seem to mind. “Oh! It’s lavender. I use it a ton. I also use vanilla, sometimes. I’m sure it’s my perfume you’re winding.” Tugging her lower lip into her mouth, the beauty eyes the other woman closely, a twinge of jealousy in her chocolate hues. Her beauty had been uncontested in the realm, for the past five or so years, yet Bryn would surely turn heads. Would it be wise to consider the warrior as competition? She was no fool, and could tell there was much more to the blonde than met the eye. On a whim, she decides to give a little more information than would normally be necessary, “I am an elf. I hail from Kelvar, a faraway forest that is nothing more than debris.” A long pause is given, as she hands the proper coin in exchange for the bread. “Our ears are not as pointy. And our features are somewhat different. We don’t have the pale blonde hair or the blue eyes. Our skin tans, rather than burns, beneath the sun. And… We are more gifted in magic than your typical knife eared tree-hugger.”


Brynhild fights the smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. She forgot how intimidating she can truly be, even as this magically created human with near perfect beauty. “Lavender and vanilla?” She brings one hand up to tug a stray blonde, and braided piece of her hair back behind her ear. Somewhere along the journey, it had fallen out of place. How troublesome. “I can pick the scents of you apart like a food connoisseur does with taste. Trust me child, it’s not the lavender I’m smelling.” Nay, it was the unknown race. Brynhilds sixty-five thousand years on this revolving planet had never come across a scent similar. But she’s from Kelvar, how troublesome. Where is this Kelvar? Her thoughts are wiped when she speaks of it being destroyed. “For instance, I know that you have multiple pets.” She gives another sniff, “And a man.” She’s nearly scoffing at her last statement. What a waste. To be spoiled by such things is a downright shame. “I can assume that a Kelvarian elf, is less stuck up as well, correct?” She’s pointing to the fact that Lanara is here, purchasing goods in a human settlement. “I’ve been around a long time child, your the first I’ve seen.” She neglects the fact that she’s only recently risen from hibernation. “A dragon lives a very long time, until madness takes them.” She’s almost grown sour at those words. Her kind were nowhere to be found. She was alone.


Lanara hugs the loaf of bread to her chest, amusement evident in her eyes, as she allows the stranger to gain a further assessment based on a mere sniff. She had a woman’s intuition, animal empathy, and of course, her magic. However, she was mystified by the abilities of one that wasn’t entirely human. Was Bryn a lycan? A feline? Perhaps a dragon? They each are sizing each other up, one with her eyes and tapered ears, and the other with her knowledge and scent. Their interaction is boggling to the teen, and she leaves the room to get the baker’s attention, and rather than come out and take Bryn’s order, they merely watch them from afar. Lanara can only imagine the thoughts running through their minds, and she’s sad that she hadn’t spent the remainder of the morning in Eli’s arms, but she had to get back to the sanctuary. And it was his choice to move out of the cottage in Sage Forest, so their time together had been significantly shortened. “I do have multiple pets. In fact, I own a sanctuary for animals. And… Yes, I’m seeing someone that happens to be a male.” She cannot help the warm smile that graces her lips when she thinks of her assassin, nor can she halt the bubble of laughter after the mention of not being considered stuck up. “Ah, you are confusing my kind with a high elf. They are the haughty ones! I’m pretty down to earth, as is my sister. There are only a handful of true Kelvarian elves that remain in the realm.” A shrug is given, and a flicker of sadness shadows her face, though she quickly manages to mask her feelings. Bryn was a dragon! “Dragons do live a very long time… And I’m no child, at least not according to the way that elves age… Have you recently moved to the area? I know most that live in these parts, and I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” She waits a beat, before offering up a name. “I’m Lanara.”


Brynhild raises those sickening, and heavenly shaped eyebrows in reprisal - whilst bringing a single hand to her chest. “Forgive the use of my word child. But when you’re my age, almost everything is but a child.” Though such emotions drain from her face when Lanara drifts off into thought over her partner. Its bothersome, but she is a lesser creature. Let her have a man. As for being from the area? That was a trick question, which she is unsure about answering at first, allowing a few moments to pass between them. With a sigh, she gives in. “I was born beneath the banner of this worlds Saurian empire. The very first clutch of Red Dragons, some sixty-five thousand years ago. Though this place is new,” She gives a beguiling smile. “I am of these lands. I am from these lands.” She neglects to mention how involved in the worlds history she has actually been. “Unfortunately I have recently risen from hibernation. Only to find myself alone as a Dragon. It seems that the vast majority of my kind were killed.” She’s poking around for information without actually asking for any of it. She’s not the type to be unsure of herself. Perhaps there were other reasons lurking beneath the surface? “And I wasn’t confusing you with another. Most Elves are rather moody and temperamental creatures.” Brynhild you’re a dragon and a pureblood red at that. If anything, you are the most temperamental creature to ever exist! She chooses to wholeheartedly ignore the people watching from the sidelines. What did it matter anyway? They were mere mortals and her curiosity had been peaked by this unknown Elf. “I’m Brynhild.” She offers in return, but does not offer a shake of her hand.


Lanara winks at Bryn as the extensive age difference is brought into play, “You’re forgiven. After all, the way you handled that jerk, earlier? Feel free to take a few jabs at my youth.” It’s an attempt to jest, and being one of a rather playful nature, it shows that she’s warming up around the dragon. Most in Cenril found their thrills in robbing an innocent bystander, using illegal substances, or dealt in other nefarious affairs. It was refreshing to meet someone as beautiful as Bryn, at the start of her morning, and see that she desired nothing more than mere conversation. At times, it’s somewhat insulting, and Lana isn’t sure if she’s considered one of the ‘lesser beings’ that the dragon keeps referring to, but she’s fairly certain that Bryn is more friend than foe. “Ah, a red dragon, you say? My sister and I… We welcome a dragon into our family. He was cast out from society, because he’s of mixed birth. An abomination, truly, as he’s half red and the other half is that of a black dragon. He’s our adopted brother.” She waits a few moments, considering Bryn, before she gives out the information that she seeks. Would this place her brother in danger? She didn’t seem overly fond of the male gender, but perhaps they could start their own little dragon family! Perhaps Lana had been fawning over Elioyahazer for too many months and was seeing hearts everywhere she looked… What harm could it truly bring, if she gave a name? Bryn seemed independent, but there was obviously a loneliness in behind those cerulean eyes. “His name is Scandal. He can often be found at the Relic Museum in Xalious, and he has a home in Venturil. And there’s a silver dragon… She’s the Queen of Frostmaw. Hildegarde. Though it’s been many, many months, since she was last seen by anyone. Her whereabouts are somewhat unknown at this time. Other than that, I don’t know of any others that are your kind.” The elf isn’t all that knowledgeable about hibernation and the effect it has on dragons, though she gives a sympathetic nod. Lana knew what it was like to return to a place and discover that nothing remained as when you had last visited. “Brynhild is a lovely name.” She doesn’t’ offer up her hand either, to shake, as it wasn’t always required. Nor did she wish to anger the woman, who already had referred to her kin as moody and temperamental. Perhaps it went both ways? Aspen, not knowing went to quit, extends his paw once more, desiring attention from the pretty blonde.


Brynhild absorbs the information about Scandal much like she would a punch to the face - with a look etched upon her features that shouted disgust. “He’s a half breed.” He’s barely above a Draconian in her mind, but still above other creatures. Like the bear who’s eyeing Brynhild and extending his paw. She quirks an eyebrow amused by his antics. Tis a shame this pet belonged to someone else or he might forcibly become her own pet. She gives no sign of giving Aspen any further attention, and gives Lanara a broad smile at the compliment about her own name. Flatterer. It would get you a long way with this species of Dragon. “Well, thank you for the information. Was a pleasure meeting you.” A nod is given to her and the pet while she simultaneously turns on booted foot and heads towards the exit. “I must be on my way. I’ve plenty of searching to do, villages to ransack, and sheep to eat.” She says the last few lines to terrify those behind the counter. Nosey buggers. Finally she’s through the threshold and stepping out into the street, where she jumps, and transforms mid air into the ancient red dragon that she is. Her scales are a deep crimson red, growing darker till they are almost charred black at its edges. With a singular beat of her wings, the area is pounded with a mighty gust of wind, and she is gone. Off in the distant horizon to some unknown place.