RP:Fire Finds Ice

Part of the The Dawn of a New Era Arc

Summary: Brynhild awakens after a long hibernation to find that much has changed during her slumber. Craughmoyle has been reclaimed by the dwarves, there are none other of her kind that she can see, and the saurian empire seems to have fallen. As she soars over the Xalious Mountains, she senses another dragon and makes an impressive landing. Neferet, intent on picking up some smokes, isn't amused by Bryn's haughty behavior, and the two bicker, each having their moment where they try to up the ante. The red gives an ultimatum, and the white finds that she's cornered, before both dragons part, knowing they will meet up again in the future. What will happen, should they collide again?

Brynhild || Obsidian tower or not, the ground begins to tremble. Quaking from some unknown source. Its shaking grows ever stronger, until at last, it stops. What could this be? Without warning, the ground bursts open in a ferocious blaze; a blast zone for a near volcanic explosion, which spits fire, lava and stone for a hundred yards in every direction. This is not the worst of it, for what crawls up from the depths beneath the valley is a monstrous sight. Claws, massive and armed with red scales that look near charred and deadly sharp. The beast's maw roars into view with a loud draconian call. And as words might fail lesser men, the behemoth of an ancient red dragon appears from the abyss. Clawing its way out of slumber. Who knows how long its resided in this land? What matters most, is the flight it takes after its hibernation. With a beat of her massive wings, the titanic Saurian takes to the skies with minimal effort. She’s powerfully built, and confused. Roaming the lands in search of the familiar. But not one thing happens to strike up her memories. How long have I slept? Those golden eyes continue to scan the earth beneath her. Where are my fellow Saurian's? What’s happened? Little did she know, but the empire of eons gone by has long since crumbled. She can only recall the deep state of sleep that called her after destroying the dwarven mountain kings hall. How she relishes in this memory. Those filthy bearded half men must have long since perished. Though the reality of the situation begins to set in. She had been asleep for thousands of years. And the races of dragons that were once found here, are nowhere to be seen. Had the empire fallen? "Impossible," she mutters to herself. Despite her lost mind, the creature is high within the skies and easily observable from anywhere within the valley. Is something else around?

It was a rarity for Neferet to venture this far south, but the woman had a craving that wouldn’t be sated, unless she made the trek to Xalious. The chill of the mountain range is welcome, though it could never compare to the sub-arctic temperature of where she had resided the past two hundred years. Platinum locks have been brushed into a ponytail, and she wears heavy woven pants, a knee-length overcoat, and fur hiking boots. A long bow is slung over her shoulder, and she wears a scowl, as she makes her descent. Neferet despised the populated lands, which were ridden with varmint, weak people, and clearly, not enough of the saurian species. Pathetic men ogled ignorant women, and they bred to have beastly children. Certain areas had so called ‘rulers’ that made strict laws, collected gold from the citizens, and were too pitiful to even attempt at going to war and increasing their leadership. The lengths one would travel to feed their addiction! Quite some time later, she finds the trail that leads to McCrunn’s Tobacco Shop, and her pace quickens. A loud rumbling alerts her that something is amiss, and she steadies herself as the earth begins to shake. Was that the call of a dragon, or had she imagined it? Jaw clenched, her silvery blue eyes look to the sky, and everything fades from view, aside from the form of the red dragon, soaring over the lands. Her penchant for fresh-rolled cigarettes, the undeniable hatred she feels towards ninety-nine percent of mankind, and the miners that were screaming in horror as dozens lay dead or injured, doesn’t matter. There was another of her kind, and she’s both intrigued and insulted by this notion. A sinister smile replaces her usual grimace, and she stalks nearer to the valley, to get a closer look at the competition.

From on high, Brynhild notices those workers shouting in terror. A dragon had just awakened. They scramble this way and that desperately clinging to the lives they hold dear. But this red is not interested in hunting them down or wasting her time upon such trivial matters. Nay for instead, a rather tall stranger is spotted among the rabble. So she circles once more, dropping her altitude in a dive bomb. It’s more or less a mad scramble to meet dirt and stone; some might even think she would smash through and re-enter the chasm from where she came. Her powerful scaled body comes to a sudden halt only feet from the ground. She turns, and transforms before all in a flash of light. What emerges is a blonde bearing braided hair, without any form of clothing. Her well toned form depicts the nature of her physical abilities, but she bears no scars. No marks or taints of any kind. She’s a beauty who could leave a drunken dwarf breathless. Wordless. But something within the depths of her eyes screams of torment; strikingly so. Confident strides, and sashaying hips bring her directly to the stranger Neferet ignoring all others. “Tell me,” her voice is disturbingly smooth - far too sing song for those piercing blue eyes. “What happened to the Empire?” This woman is referring to the one of Saurian's. Where were they all? Why did the dwarves claim the mountain range? Better yet, what year is it?

Neferet is momentarily taken aback as the red dragon circles the sky, and all at decides to make an impromptu landing, rather close in proximity. The craving for those addictive substances, which she knew to be sold a mere half mile to the west, itches at the back of her brain. Yet, she remains rooted in place, with her soles planted firmly upon the quaking ground, staring down the crimson reptile as she magically shifts before her very eyes. Those smokes would be delayed. A routine purchase, which often was a mundane procedure, was being replaced by a moment of sheer significance. Bryn saunters over, closing the distance betwixt their two forms, and although Neferet isn’t one to partake in pleasures of the flesh, she finds this being to be rather beautiful. The swell of her bosom, the curve of her hips, the toned yet still feminine figure, and the confident stride, are all indicators that this was no ordinary woman. If the cryomancer was capable of a blush, her cheeks would surely be painted a fiery shade as she catches herself staring at this stranger. The two dragons stare each other down for a moment, each having the deep rooted notion of what the other was, merely by a glance, an inhale of the nostrils, and the ebbing of saurian intuition. “The Empire fell. Quite some time ago. Long before I had even hatched.” Neferet’s words are clipped, her tone having a faint accent from the north, though she speaks and understands common with ease. Curiosity gets the best of her, and she shoves her hands into her pockets, extending this encounter for a few minutes. It wasn’t every day that the white had encountered another of her kind, let alone an actual red dragon. The silence subsides after a bit of lingering in one another’s aura, their hues sizing one another up, and it’s then that Nef gives into her temptation, desiring answers of her own, “Why are you here, of all places? I take it that you were hibernating for quite some time? You got a name, or shall I refer to you as Cherry Scales?”

Brynhild nearly scoffs at the others response; feeling as if she’d just licked a foul tar and couldn’t wipe its vile taste from her tongue. The Empire has fallen? To what? When? She couldn’t believe the news, but by the lack of Saurian's flying the skies she knew it was true. Neferet’s question sets Bryns mind alight with thought - calculating all that she can to figure out how long she had been sleeping. “I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep.” Her response still carries that sing-song tone despite the ire that lurks within her steel eyes. “But I came to hibernate deep beneath the mountain shortly after my fellow reds and I sacked the dwarven kings hall.” If Neferet had learned any of significant history, she might realize that Brynhild is speaking of an event from around sixty-seven thousand years ago. The event bankrupted the entire dwarven empire at that time. She has indeed spent countless millennia in slumber. “We were showing the Saurian empire how strong the new race of Reds were.” The warrioress waves a hand dismissively. It couldn't have been that long and yes, she is referring to being an original. Beyond just the conversation, Bryn starts to move, something in the distance had caught her eye. By the time she reaches it, she’s found herself a merchant, who stares; both ashamed and embarrassed to be dealing with a woman is not covered up. Eventually, she is donning armor, a spear, shield and sword. Hell, he practically threw the items at her to hide his shame and there had been no exchange of gold. The unfamiliar dragon is approached once more. “Brynhild.” Cherry scales certainly wouldn’t work, nor would it draw those magnificent lips into a smile. This entire conversation is finally ignored for moments, realizing that she too is examining Neferet, a fellow dragon. “And you are?” Suddenly her demeanor switches to an air of authority. “Shall we gather more of our brethren, and see what remains of the empire?” Or perhaps start something of their own, but these thoughts are left out entirely. She couldn’t smell any other scent from Neferet and understands instantly, that she too is alone; whether by choice or not.

Neferet shifts her penetrating gaze to the merchant, nearly scoffing at the ignorance of the male as he offers the armor over without collecting coin. He wouldn’t be a very successful businessman if he was –that- intimidated by an attractive female. Shaking her head in disgust and turning slightly, she affords Bryn a moment of privacy as she dons the clothing and equips her weapon and shield. “Pathetic…” She mutters beneath her breath, glowering at the man, who has now sheepishly bowed his head, in an effort to ignore the shame he must be basking in after his behavior. “Weak mortals… I’ll never understand how a woman would lie with such a pitiful excuse of a man. Tell me, Human… Are you as much of a disappointment in the bedroom as you are behind your stall? Why do you shiver? Is it in fear? Or… Something else?” Advancing on the male, Neferet extends her hand and a stream of water spouts from her palm, soaking the salesman from head to toe. Upon arriving at his side, she claps her hand on his shoulder, as though they were old friends, “My name is Neferet. Your precious dwarven kings hall has been claimed… But it’s no longer held by our kind.” A long pause hangs in the air, as the water begins to freeze over on the merchant’s form. His flesh turns blue, he trembles beneath the dragon’s chilled touch, and in a matter of seconds, his veins harden and he is frozen in place. He’d never stare at another woman again. Neferet pockets the gold he had earned from earlier in the day, and she continues to talk, as she eyes an enchanted whip. Greed fills her silvery blue hues, and she plucks the weapon from the stand, and cracks it against the frozen form, as though testing it out for good measure. The unmistakable echo pierces the area and the figure shatters in a thousand shards of glass, flesh, and gore. “You’ve slept for a long time. Too long, Brynhild. I’d say it’s nice to see another, as you are the –only- one I’ve seen in all my time in the area… But, I’d be lying. I don’t keep friends.” She didn’t, as she had a strong desire to remain independent, and a penchant for abusing those that had dared to venture too close. There was a reason she lived in the snowy tundra, and it went far deeper than the fact that she bore white scales.

If Neferet sought to bring about a reaction - she would have no rise or reprisal beyond something rather mild. There’s certainly no wince of pain or disgust that smears Brynhild’s beautiful features. All that touches those lips is a lifeless smile; one filled with pride. The merchant had received only death in exchange for the reds armor. Tis a shame to be a mortal, is it not? Neferet’s words are alarming, which only confirm her own thoughts. She had been asleep for a long time indeed. Brynhild puts one armored foot in front of the other and closes the gap between the two - sure to make direct eye contact. “I only keep pets, a harem of lovers, and slaves.” Brynhild finally eyes Neferet’s form with enthusiasm. “Which will you be?” Suddenly this red is eyeing Neferet as if she could be added to some unknown horde of gold, jewels, and precious items. She certainly looks up to the challenge at dominating the other and years of unbridled aggression begins to seep out of her pores. Reds were notorious for that. “Keep in mind, I have a preference for a woman’s touch.” Is she having a jest? Surely she can’t be serious right now… Right?

Neferet coils her recently acquired whip, raveling the cord and keeping her gaze off of the advancing form of the beautiful red dragon. The gap is closed, and she’s forced to raise her head. Silvery blue hues glare at the bemused face of Bryn, and her jaw clenches in annoyance. Were all Red’s this annoying? “I’d prefer to remain nothing to you. No more than a passing dragon. I’m not a woman to be kept, as a friend, foe, or lover. You’re sadly mistaken if you think otherwise.” There’s a danger lurking in her predator-like expression, and if this arrogant bitch didn’t step back, there would be trouble. Neferet proudly stands her ground, never one to back down from a fight, even if this dragon was much older and more powerful than her, as she didn’t want to be viewed as a weakling. And then, the sexual preference is offered, and she can’t help but chuckle. Did Brynhild really just say that she prefers the company of women? It’s amusing, as likewise, Nef prefers a female’s touch, though she loathes promiscuity, and dubs this dragon as a loose sort of woman for offering such a statement to a stranger. Was she imagining the way Bryn’s voice took on a hint of huskiness? Why was that so appealing? Nef was attractive in her human state, though her true beauty was revealed in her scaled form, and it was incomparable. She almost scoffs at the notion that this beauty would wish for her affections, so she shakes her head, tasting bile in the back of her throat, “There’s a brothel to the south of here, I’m told. And to the west there are dwarves. You can probably hire a whole herd of them to please your every whim. It’s been grand, but I must be on my way, I have smokes with my name on them.” Turning, she again, aims to leave the area. If Bryn chose to follow, she wouldn’t fight her, for she knew there was no besting an elder dragon, not unless she wished to end her existence.

Brynhild begins to laugh. Hysterically. In fact it's the one thing about her that isn't attractive in this moment. She can barely even breathe. For an arrogant bitch she sure has no manners or shame for that matter. But after reigning such emotion in, she finally breaks their newfound silence with words. “The other reds and I brought war to the dwarves. They stood no chance and might perhaps make good slaves. But those dirty sausages they call fingers will never touch my form. Another Dragon though? Perhaps.” She eyes Neferet once more, still unashamed. She knew that she had gotten under her skin. Even in her thoughts. Those perfectly neutral-red toned lips of hers curl into another smile - Neferet is a feisty one. “But do not presume to think you have any alternative beyond what I’ve laid before you. You will be one or the other, even if I have to beat you into submission here and now. A red dragon will do anything to amass their horde and I’ve decided to add you in one capacity. Trust me,” she steps forward and around Neferet with a haste previously unshown; effectively blocking her path. Despite her girlish smirk - there is a deadly threat infecting her tone like liver spots to skin. “Taking an offer is better than fighting me and proving to be nothing more than a disappointment. That’s how a slave is made.” Oh yes, Brynhild is an arrogant bitch. She’s already staked a claim on Neferet and it didn't matter which she ended up as. Though it's obvious she is curious to see what choice this strange dragon will make. Noted by a quizzically raised eyebrow. One way or the other, Brynhild would find herself delighted by the company of Neferet.

Neferet scowls as her words earn harsh laughter from the pretty woman, as she was hoping to offend, rather than amuse. She fights not to roll her eyes, and gives a shake of her head, a common trait of the cryomancer. What was with this red dragon? Had such a long hibernation caused her to become so overcome with her hormones of desire and greed? Stomping nearer to her destination, the hairs lift on the back of her neck as the blonde appears before her, much faster on her feet than she thought possible. Alright, she was agile, so what? She had been resting for quite some time! Clenching her jaw, Nef’s next line pours from her mouth like a steaming pile of cow dung, “I’m –not- in the mood, Princess. Back off!” She’s cornered now, as to her front stands Brynhild, and to her rear is the gaping hole in the ground. Did this red truly wish to combat a white? In public? Neferet wasn’t the type to transform in front of mortals, unless the situation was dire. Nor was she one to show off her magical abilities. The bravado of this promiscuous stranger would be her demise, and she’s not around to see the mighty red make her last stand. Nef wasn’t the enemy, but she wouldn’t be treated as though she were some trophy. “I will not bed you, nor will I be your slave. I don’t share –anything- in my world. That wouldn’t be a master, a lover, or any object that I claim to be mine. You may have the looks, Bryn… And you may think you are all big and bad, and have this ‘idea’ to gather dragons into your precious horde, but I am –not- interested.” Arms cross over her chest, and her hues flicker with boredom, as she considers the threat that the other issues. They were in Xalious, which was even ground for both of their kinds, as neither fire nor ice was prevalent in these parts. Would this be an opposites attract scenario? The next apocalypse should they collide? Would Neferet have the advantage as she had youth and had been training vigilantly each and every day? Or would Brynhild come out the victor, as she has wisdom on her side, and had been conserving energy for quite some time? “Move. Last chance, Princess. I would rather just get some smokes, you go and catch some pleasure from the pathetic sausage fingered mortals, and we both call it a day. What do you say? Or… The alternative is that we fight. If –you- win… I will give you twenty-four hours to call me your own, and I will do whatever it is that you wish of me.” Pleasure, hunting, breaking the law, something entirely embarrassing, the possibilities were endless! “If –I- win… This is the end of our conversation, and you never speak to me again, as long as we both shall roam the lands.” A smile replaces her scowl at the brilliance behind her terms, as she’s confident she will come out on top. “Deal or no deal?”

Brynhild’s amused smirk doesn’t shift or change. “Neferet, you still refuse to see that I will not give you an option. I don’t bargain or barter with lessers. I take. So your option? Denied.” Those years of wisdom that Neferet’s thoughts have pointed to might come to fruition. “Besides, I never had any intent to actually force you into submission.” That brow of hers is raised once more. “I do like finding out who will actually stand up for themselves though. It separates the weak from the strong. And you pass.” She gives one more amused chuckle. “I’ll be seeing you around Nef. I’m sure of it.” She gives an idle waggle of her fingers and marches off towards civilization. It was time to learn about the truths of the world. Time to take her life back, and her passing amusement with Neferet are over. She might find comfort in the knowledge that she was only testing her. Before long, she would find herself without the presence of the red, who vanishes around a corner.

Neferet’s dangerous glare remains, though the corner of her mouth twitches in slight amusement. The red was toying with her the entire time? She had little desire to battle? The warrior prowess was strong in Bryn, that much was for certain, yet she seemed content with mere words from the feisty white dragon. Neferet isn’t foolish enough to think for a single second that the woman was backing down out of fear of being bested. Nay, she was hopeful of adding to her horde, her cause to regain the title that the Saurian race once held, and perhaps she was looking for a scaled friend. Neferet wasn’t lying when she said she didn’t keep companions, of any variety, yet she can’t explain why her lips purse into a petulant pout when the red leaves the area. It was rare to see another dragon in these parts, not that she’d seen –any- in her travels thus far. Back home it was second nature to see ones brethren. Back home the dragons and the mortals used each other constantly for their personal gain, though the humans were well aware of where they stood on the food chain. Back ‘home’ was but a distant memory that haunted her dreams, though the glimpse of another dragon, the meeting of another independent female, was enough to make those dreams turn to nightmares. One dragon remaining in hiding, aside from the rare occurrences where she ventured down the mountain for some smokes, was entirely possible to keep out of the public eye. But this red dragon, swooping carelessly through the sky, causing destruction in the wide open? There was a real reason for concern. It would attract others of their kind. Hell, it may draw her own father’s eye, and that was the main reason she never ventured back ‘home’ and why she had fled to Frostmaw in the first place. With an annoyed huff, Neferet continues on her way to fulfill her original purpose, with the intent to return to her frozen dwelling and think on the events that had transpired on this day.