RP:Talk of a Brood
Part of the The Dawn of a New Era Arc
Summary: Two dragons meet to speak of a growing new brood and their alignments.
Northern Highlands
The Northern Highlands is what the rangers of the Sage Forest call this region. This is the place you hear so much about, and that it is some of the roughest terrain in all of Hollow. Its still south far enough to prevent the frost or snow that you see further north of here, but the air is chill and crisp. Great peaks adorn the horizon, and strange things have been heard to live there among the cold and snow. Bears, larger than any seen to the south, and strange buildings of death and magic are just some of the tales told about this wondrous land. To the north there seems to be a range, and beyond it some say an estate made of ice or crystal. You have also heard the tales of the castle of a great and powerful mage, although those could be just myths, and wives tales. To the south is a path which leads off in many directions, while to the east is a small castle or building of sorts.
Dyraxdiin has found himself a comfortable perch atop a flat rock in this otherwise rough terrain. Clad in his typical mithril half-plate and gray half robes, he leans upon his hands - disguised so as a simple human - and takes in the afternoon sun. His thoughts float around his recent meeting with Brynhild, a dragon he knows by the true name of Grymvettir, and the topic of their reunion. Even still, he finds it so hard to believe, to know, that she still lives. After however many untold millennia, could they rebuild everything anew? The great wyrm releases a sigh, a light smile to touch his lips; the sight of her reminded him of Maldryxiin and Ovicelas, of so many happy memories once thought forever lost to the history books of some mortal scholar. It is at this lull in thought that the approach of another is made aware to the Mage, and he opens his blue eyes in search of the individual in question.
Xiembantointh strides along, also looking like some simple human and dressed far too comfortably to be in the cool climate of the mountains going towards Frostmaw. It just so happens that he was making his way back to Frostmaw after working in the mines as long as he can to find many gems and riches he can trade for employees because he was trying to get his construction company up and running again. He looks up, considering a flight to get there faster and partly because he missed the cool winds and flying through the blizzards, but thinks better of that since it seems the Saurian race has significantly dwindled and taking flight would draw unwanted attention. Long booted strides bring him closer to a man sitting on a rock and he thinks nothing of it while counting his riches. Xiembantointh’s plain face is decorated with smears of soot, but oddly no sweat from his hard days work and his long salt and pepper brown hair seems to be struggling to spill out of the low bun it was tied into.
Dyraxdiin 's blue eyes regard Xiembantointh for a time, deciding whether or not to speak to him. Something about him, possibly the lack of sweat, but visible signs of recent work, causes him to sit up. "Greetings, traveler," The great wyrm's voice comes easily - a surefire sign of confidence and self-assured strength. "You look to have had a long day on the road," Dyraxdiin reaches into his half-robes and produces a glass bottle of sparkling water and a bundle of some food. Cheese and dried meat, were Saurian senses strong enough to discern. "I haven't much, but wouldn't mind the company for a moment, if you'd like." In honest, Dyraxdiin's thoughts were consuming him and he felt that a bit of idle conversation and a shared meal with someone would be better than brooding over what was, what is, and what will soon be.
Xiembantointh looks mean or cold, but as soon as he’s addressed a warm smile spreads across his face and it reaches his charcoal grey eyes to twinkle there. For being such a cold creature he emits a different warmth; kindness. “Greetings!” A jovial an boisterous voice greets in return, “ah,” he swats the air once as if to wave away any concern for his working ways, “nothing I haven’t done in my long life before.” He puts in hard work when hard work needs done and holds no shame in having to start over because it’s not like he was ever really swimming in riches. Xiem can pick up different notes of food in the air and when it’s offered he doesn’t turn it down, “don’t mind if I do.” He strides closer to the stranger and holds out his hand to introduce himself, “Xiembantointh the White, friend.” After plopping down to sit with the stranger, he politely waits to be handed anything the man was offering and also waits for the mage to start eating first. He can sense something quite old about the man and has his own suspicion that he is also a dragon.
Dyraxdiin offers a warm smile in return to his new companion, whom, if he isn't mistaken, admitted to his Saurian heritage. A surprising, and most welcome discovery. The mage places the bundle of food down alongside the bottle, if only to take up Xiembantointh's hand in kind, "I'm called Dyraxdiin, the Gray." If indeed Xiembantointh is of the White brood, he's the most cordial one Dyraxdiin has met since awakening. Once he completes shaking Xiem's hand, Diin produces two wood-hewn cups and pours them both sparkling water. Sparkling water, while silly in every sense, is so much more satisfying; it brings a certain sense of regal to an otherwise ordinary drink. And Dragon's have a thing for the regal, of course. Dyraxdiin opens up the bundle of food and procures himself a small wedge of cheese and a slice of dried meat from within. With his free hand, he gestures towards the food as if to make apparent that Xiem is welcome to help himself. "Have you recently awakened?" Dyraxdiin glances over to him and then takes a bite of food.
Xiembantointh nods once in mutual acknowledgement, “pleasure to make your acquaintance, Dyraxdiin!” His whole aura is that of an infectious joy and confidence as his hearty low tone continues, “that I have, two hundred years of sleep.” After following the Gray’s movements and taking up some meat with cheese he sips the sparkling water that Xiem does enjoy from time to time, but nothing he’s never really thought too much on for he spends his days filled with hard work and labor. This is obvious from the callouses and scrapes on his skin that lays out his long timeline like a roadmap, “you would think you feel revitalized after such a long slumber, but I still feel like the same very old dragon!” A gentle jab to Dyraxdiin’s elbow with his own as if they are just two old friends trading jokes and wisdom. A comfortable silence rests between them as he takes stock in the area he finds himself in and comes to the conclusion that this is a perfect thinking spot. So he boldly queries, “something on your mind?” Xiem has always been quick to call a stranger a friend and treats them with such respect until they give him a reason not to.
Dyraxdiin similarly takes a drink from his cup and continues snacking while listening to Xiem. Two-hundred years had passed for him. Diin finds himself idling wondering how much changed in that time for the White. "I hope you have managed better than I after awakening." The confusion, the burning desire to destroy the dwarves, the sorrow from all that he lost. The war was still so fresh in his mind that he could have sworn that his wounds were still bleeding. That was a few years ago now, and he has since accustomed himself to this new world, some nigh seventy-thousand years forward. These thoughts lead him into his answer to Xiem's question, "A few members of varying broods and ages, including myself, are looking to reestablish the empire of old... or at least, something similar to it." Dyraxdiin looks off into the distance, "I came here to think and to strategize but I've mostly just been reminiscing. It's hard not to when you've most of your life behind you, instead of ahead of you." For all Dyraxdiin knew, he was only years away from losing his mind and turning Feral. The thought of it worries him greatly. On the surface however, the mage maintains a pleasant demeanor, his blue eyes to find Xiem's gaze. "What are your thoughts on the matter, of us reestablishing ourselves as a civil society once again?"
Xiembantointh actively listens to him, not just that, but the fellow dragon may actually feel /heard/. Compartmentalizing his own feelings on why he went into hibernation in the first place because he just wants to focus on his new business and what the other dragon is saying rather than slip into that emptiness again… His expression turned thoughtful, “I am faring well enough, staying at the Frostmaw inn, getting a team of workers together to start my construction business again.” Another gulp of his water as he considers the past, “I am curious about that. It could be nice falling into a brood, but back in my day I always ended up finding that my alignment wasn’t in sync with the others around me. As you know, dragons can be greedy and eventually they always want more…” he looked off into the distance. “I always held close to the idea that there is no shortage of cruelty in this world and beings who can protect those who cannot protect themselves, should,” he remembers a time where he fought on the side he thought was good until it all just didn’t make sense anymore, so he retired. “If these dragons reestablish an order, would they offer protection from cruelty? Or would they let conquer, fame, and glory rule their desires?” His gaze went to the Grey’s face as if he could tell from this first meeting if the dragon is good or evil.
Dyraxdiin nods his head knowingly, following along with Xiem. While the two may have lived lives seperate of each other entirely, they seemingly experienced many shared ordeals. It pangs him to know that so many of his kind suffered - still suffer - after all of these long years. They had lost everything, a world that has long since been buried beneath sea and sand and picked apart by every greedy race in the power vaccuum. Dyraxdiin takes another bite of food, giving himself some time to think on Xiem's words. As he finishes chewing, he says, "Broods are kin and share responsibilities to our race as a collective, not as individuals. Greed, gluttony, the individual negative qualities associated with our race, they're not our true way." Indeed, it's not - the very nature of a dragon has changed so much since his time. Dyraxdiin attributes it to their low numbers, desperation, and need for survival. "Balance is. Without balance..." Dyraxdiin waves his hand to the haphazard terrain before them, "We're a mess. It's easy to see the faults. Together, we can cultivate the change we wish to see in us and hopefully be remembered for our good intentions." In ernest, they seek to establish a safehaven for their kind and to uplift a race that has been downtrodden for untold millennia.
Xiembantointh shamelessly wipes his hands on the cloth of the pants after half of the shared meat and cheese is gone to work on finishing off the sparkling water in his cup, “I understand there will always be those that will want to tip the scales of balance to their side. It seems our morals align and the other dragon I met, Scandal, doesn’t appear to harbor any evil in his being. If this new order will have me, I wouldn’t mind joining up, but the second I do not agree with something I will respectfully bow out,” a humble shrug because this dragon has not said anything about recruiting him just yet. “Again, if this new brood will have me and we try to leave a good name then I will also try,” he just didn’t want to be thrown into a situation where he must choose sides again.
Dyraxdiin smiles at the thought of Scandal, recalling a lunch they shared that was not dissimilar to this one, ableit it involved a kraken and a sandy beach instead. "Scandal is a good soul and one of us." Dyraxdiin folds up his remaining bundle of food and tucks it away in his gray half-robes. "I had not asked you to join as of yet, because I wished to know you as you wished to know me. I feel I have garnered enough of your character to understand where you stand, without having to afford you an invitation. You're one of us." The mage smiles further, bowing his head to Xiem, "I hope that in the coming days, months and years, that you would feel comfortable enough to speak out against any injustice you might see us guilty of. We are a collective, our voice is shared, kin." Dyraxdiin stands up from his seat atop the rock and takes a cursory glance to the southwest. "Seek the dragon that goes by the name Brynhild, our leader in this. She's an impatient, fiery Red, but I would lay my life down for her. She will be honored to welcome you among us.”
Xiembantointh is familiar with strong women and when Dyraxdiin alled Brynhild impatient, the White let out a hearty understanding chuckle, “whenever I meet her, I will not waste her time then.” His tone jovial again with that smile creasing lines on his temples and reaching his eyes because when he smiles it shows in his whole face. After wiping the wiry hairs of his beard free of any food debris with his large calloused laborer hand, he takes a deep breath and takes stock of the world around him. “The winds are shifting my friend and I only hope for the good.” Typically dragons do not take to deities, but his late wife was always drawn to Arkhen and he continues to believe as if that will keep them close somehow. “I hope to Arkhen,” a distant look in his gaze before he looks away and stands up - renewing his resolve and smiling again. “I am off to recruit some workers! Keep Nidran Construction in mind for any of your building needs,” he offers a big wave and if there was nothing else to be shared or requested, Xiem will continue on his way.
Dyraxdiin bows once again to Xiem, "We will have need of you when we begin rebuilding." He says to the departing White. It was high time Dyraxdiin was on his way as well.