sins of the father [c]

[ender]

Ender had had better days. He had also had worse days. All in all, he'd put this day pretty far on the crappy end of the worse to worst spectrum. He wasn't sure where Shen'lon had gone, but he figured that man would be fine. Skirmishes go sour; it happens. Neither of them intended to die for any sort of gold price, so he was certain enough that the man would make his way out alive. Ender grimaced, not that anyone could really tell what a dragon looked like when it grimaced. His wing wasn't falling off, but it felt like it was. He knew it wasn't because he could still fly--and fly he did, hobbling uncomfortably askew into the village. He fell unpleasantly to the ground, and his ribs protested every movement. Trailing blood, he asked a villager where to find an apothecary or perhaps an actual healer, and then he made his way there. Instead of climbing stairs, he took dragon form and flew uphill, landing clumsily again at a house of healing. He, in fact, crashed through a window. That wasn't his intention, and he laid on the ground, shifting back into a humanoid form. He wasn't too interested in moving unless he had to. "Could use a vulnerary," he rasped. Jehiel

[Jehiel]

jehiel had just been finishing a letter to a merchant when his latest paitient arrived. the crash landing had managed to dislodge several glass bottles from his shelf. they shatter upon impact, sending shards and powder flying in all directions. there goes several weeks' worth of effort. jehiel scratches his head and decides that he'll sweep up later. first, he has to see who is behind him and nearly breathing their last. (not if jehiel can help it) his job had not been easy at first. plants went into extinction between his hibernation periods and new species came into existence. people also developed different resistances over time, but the basic principles remain. sixty years was plenty for him to become an accomplished herbalist. and more than enough to heal this stranger, hopefully. he corks his bottle of ink and gets up from his chair to face the new arrival. jehiel surveys the wall before noting the dragonstone in the boy's fist. his morning is just full of surprises. jehiel goes to a cabinet in the back and takes out his personal stock of a reddish-brown vulnerary. he walks over to the patient with it, unfazed. "there aren't poachers after you, are there?" his stay in the village had been relatively pleasant, but he doesn't like the idea of having bounty hunters showing up at his doorstep. if he needs to flee, then he should probably start organizing his belongings right now. ender

I'm thinking we should ride To a place that we don't know

©

[ender]

Ender assumed the stranger was the healer in this village. Their face was unclear before him, his vision swimming--much more swimmy than he'd like to admit. It was only now that Ender was realizing he hadn't actually entered through the door. All the things he broke on the way in was a bit of a tip off. Poachers? He laughed, and the sound wasn't pleasant. There wasn't blood in his throat, for that Ender was thankful, but what he managed as a dry, mirthless cackling. "Fuck poachers. Let them come. Their funeral." Against all common sense, Ender rolled over, trying to pull himself off the ground. He wasn't going anywhere. Against all common sense (again), he tried to move his arm, the one that had been the wing that felt like it'd fallen off. The arm wasn't about to do anything either. Without any other option, Ender flopped back down on the ground, not unlike a particularly discontent cat. He eyed Jehiel, waiting until his vision cleared long enough so that he only saw one of Jehiel. There. Good. He threw a buillion at him. "Here. Yours. Unless I don't get better. Then I'm taking it back." Jehiel

[Jehiel]

somehow, jehiel feels like he should return the buillion already. he has a feeling that this boy is going to break again before he gets better. "...i'm professionally obligated to tell you that it will be your funeral too if you return to your business, whatever it may be." nothing even vagely resembling a nice, settled desk job. that was for sure. jehiel saw the wounds, and they're from no tumble down a mountain. nevertheless, jehiel is plenty willing to let him leave. or at least, he was until he catches the sound of heavy footsteps from the northern direction. the kind of footsteps that were heavy enough to suggest armor. he's not disappointed when they appear in the actual doorway. the one with hinges, not a manakete-shaped hole. or it did until they were broken off by a couple of barbarians. at this rate jehiel is going to have to buy this house. "where's the dragon?" demanded the man who was presumably their leader. "the whole village is abuzz, you can't hide him from us!" the herbalist maintains his calm. "please, this is a place of healing. there is nothing for you here, unless you are in need of a salve." of course, it wasn't very convincing when he's got a hole the size of a wyvern in the wall. ender

I'm thinking we should ride To a place that we don't know

©

[ender]

Bandits. Bandits, really? They'd followed him this far over some petty bandits on the road. They weren't the first set of criminals to attack what looked like only a man with an axe and a teenaged boy, but they were by far the most numerous. "I don't believe this," Ender muttered under his breath--and he didn't have much breath to spare. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he stood and walked to the dragon-sized hole where the window had been. It had been a perfectly serviceable entryway. It would do as an exit too. As a dragon, he usually appeared in hues of dark emerald and white jade, but this was the mangiest he'd appeared in a long time. Left wing bloody, Ender leapt back outside, taking to the air only long enough to spew dragonbreath down upon them. He landed, still outside but next to the dragon-shaped hole, back braced against the wall--it wasn't enough to support him. His legs decided they wanted to sit down, and he crumpled onto the ground. "Never seen so many ugly fools and rejects in one place." He paused to draw a thin, reedy breath that sounded like his lungs were giving up on him. The sound of it didn't persuade him to shut up. "Hey, healer. Call your local lord. It seems his zookeeper's lost track of a horde of apes and baboons." Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

Shen'lon didn't get angry, honestly. He rarely cared enough about anything to do so. Smack him upside the head with a metal stick, sure. Bruise a few of his ribs, whatever. Steal the bag full of his (misbegotten) bullion, though, and the man would be more than happy to cleave skulls to get it back.

That, of course, didn't mean he was stupid. He was outnumbered and outmanned, a fact made painfully clear when his dragon companion took a nasty hit to the wing.

So, like any man with a desire to avoid a sword between his ribs, he retreated. Shen'lon followed the gang of bandits through the desert at a distance, patiently waiting for his opportunity to retrieve the gold and split. Ender had flown off somewhere, anyway, and the man wasn't particularly worried. (Nor did he feel any obligation to find the manakete and make sure he was all right.)

He followed them to a town, and between the shouts and a conspicuously-sized hole in a wall -- not to mention the obviously injured dragon beside said hole -- it didn't take long to figure out what was going on.

And because he was a perfectly rational, sane man, Shen'lon raised his axe and swung down on the nearest bandit before slamming the next in the back with a dull crunch.

Shen'lon began to cleave his way through the men before him without another word.

Jehiel

[Jehiel]

there was a reason that jehiel had taken up residence here, and it was so that the local plegian lords don't come knocking at his door. medon may have been a little backwater after the war, but this part of medon is especially backwater. lawlessness reigned, hence the reason he has visitors at all.  jehiel only spaced out for about ten seconds when the bandits were getting their asses handed to them, okay. unfortunately, that's enough time for a thief to get the jump on him with a sword. at least, that's what it looks like. what happens instead is that the dragonstone necklace tucked inside of his shirt glows brightly and the blade is deflected harmlessly against raw scales that have been protecting jehiel's skin from centuries of steel. the man is thrown backwards against a wall, and the building is starting to look like a horse cart ran through it. the blood drawn by the new arrival doesn't do the decor any favors. that, his head just dislodged part of the straw roof. somehow, he doesn't think that this place is worth patching up for the next month. ender

I'm thinking we should ride To a place that we don't know

©

[ender]

Ender didn't have anywhere to go. In fact, over here by the wall was starting to feel very comfortable. Too comfortable. There was nothing comfortable about the wall. The stone foundation was unpleasantly hard and coarse, while the wooden bits needed sanding and the straw covering itched like mad. Yet it was comfortable like a soft bed by a warm hearth. Maybe he was tired. He saw Shen'lon--heard him more than saw him, the sound of his axe was familiar by now--and he saw, surprisingly enough, another dragon. "Damn," Ender said, to no one at all. "That wasn't unlikely at all." In an case, it seemed like the battle was well under control. "Your money's safe," Ender called out to Shen'lon, voice still dry and raspy but loud enough to be heard. Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

Another dragon?

Seeing a giant lizard appear out of nowhere should surprise the man, but his apathy was too natural to really give it much thought. It was beating down more bandits, luckily enough, which meant he didn't have to face down the thing as an enemy.

His luck couldn't be that bad.

He dropped low to avoid the axe coming at his neck, swinging his own weapon into the guy's legs without a second thought. The criminals were nervous now, faced with two dragons on one side and an axe-wielding maniac on the other.

Shen'lon grunted an acknowledgement at Ender's words. "Good." Worry not, bullion -- he would be there soon.

At any rate, he simply continued brandishing his weapon and splattering gore all over the place. Not graceful, by any means, but he was getting the job done.

Jehiel

[Jehiel]

the fight becomes tremendously easier when several of the bandits realize that fighting two manaketes might be getting themselves way over their heads. the rest, jehiel almost comically brushes out of the house with his tail (actually, he's not even comfortable with calling the remains a house anymore. try ruins on top of a foundation of rocks). they clear the house eventually, and jehiel shifts back to a more humanoid form. he takes a look around and decides that the house is truly of no use to anyone. not even the man who had rented it out to him. he looks down at the bodies that fell too quickly to escape. he loots them quickly and sticks the gold in a lockbox, along with the buillion that ender had given him. his paitient had contributed to a lot of the damage, so he decides that he's not getting the buillion payment back. he throws on a few locking spells to prevent it from being looted before the landlord arrives in a couple of days. that should be enough to settle their debt after the disaster that is today. ender

I'm thinking we should ride To a place that we don't know

©

[ender]

Ender watched the fight unfold before him. He'd been worried about the village healer (he'd actually feel moderately bad if the bandits killed him), but when Jehiel turned into a dragon, he stopped worrying. Nothing to worry about, really. He also wasn't worried about Shen'lon. With the bandits' numbers already depleted, he trusted that the man with the axe would not be outmatched unless a wyvern or two showed up, then he was fucked. Unhelpfully, Ender slumped over, unconscious. Shen'lon

[Shen'lon]

With the last of the bandits dead, Shen'lon stepped over the bodies and nudged them with a steel-toed boot. Ender was unconscious, which would have been a bit worrying if the man were the type to worry, but there were more pressing matters.

Like where the fuck was his money?

He knew for a fact the ones holding his gold were currently face-down in the dirt, but rough kick exposed no such thing. Another glance around, and he turned his focus on the conscious, older-looking manakete.

Shen'lon walked over and held out a hand. "My money."

Jehiel