Above It All

[Verrath]

Exhilaration!

Since her children had been taken, Annie had not felt this excited. But no-one, she thought, can quite resist the thrill of soaring through the air perched between the wings of... a dragon. To feel the incredible power of the wings pumping to gain altitude, the mad lurching as the body heaved upwards, the tickling in your stomach as he glided smoothly on the currents.

Add the fact that they were swooping over the Mossdale, with her holding on for dear life but covering more ground in a few minutes than Annie the bird or wolf or panther could in as many hours, and her spirits soared right alongside the scaly form. There was hope again. They might yet find the passage that Annie was so desperate to rediscover.

He wasn't terribly big for a red, not nearly as big as the dragons in the stories, but he was a formidable creature. Ruby scales glittered against the sun whenever it peeked through the clouds, leathery wings stretched and the muscles rippled mightily as he moved.

Suppressing a pang of jealousy, Annie wondered what it would be like to be able to shift into a red dragon. She'd have to ask him.

From time to time, his fanged head swiveled to fix her with one eye, and she was sure she saw a smug grin in the reptilian features. Well, she could forgive the gloating, for now.

At this very moment, Sulfur was her best friend ever.

[TheBrogueadier]

It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic,
Of all things physical and metaphysical,
Of all things human and all things super human,
Of all true manifestations of the head,
Of the heart, of the soul,
That the life is recognizable in its expression,
That form ever follows function. This is the law.

Louis Sullivan, 1896


The dragon kept as high as it could, a strong desire not to suffer a sudden infestation of arrows or offensive spells meant keeping to a reasonable altitude.

Below stretched the murky sprawl of the Mossdale Forest, the thick canopy broken only occasionally by the workings of the overly industrious orc tribe that called it home. Beyond the dark forest rose the mountain range of Sundren’s borders; caught between the trees and the first rocky rises lay a fetid and sucking marshland, its swamps spilling a thick and clinging mist that all but obscured both the marshes themselves and a region of the rocks. Even with the mist it was easy enough to see that little or no large life moved within.

He turned away from the mountain range, the changing air currents and treacherous peaks were something he had no desire to tangle with quite yet, and struck out towards Arbiter’s Stand.

He flicked occasional glances back at the passenger perched between his wings, Annie.
He’d once half feared and respected her, but the loss of her children and unwillingness to take any action had turned her from a powerful defender of the grove into a half-crazed, hollow-eyed shadow. His wings hammered a powerful staccato beat to gain height before gliding again. Now he helped her out of a contemptuous pity. He glanced back again, a look of happiness flickered across her face, the first time he’d seen such a thing in a long time. It was a terrible thing to see your heroes so reduced.

The trees began to thin, then fell away almost completely to a battle-scared and muddy stretch before the squat and battered shape of the Stand reared up below. The farmlands it had so spectacularly failed to protect sat around it fallow and lost. The occasional charred and shattered house jutted up through the stubby growth, rotting memorials to the families who once tended the land. The Legion, for all its righteous indignation was as bad as most of its enemies, consuming vast amounts of precious resources, drilling and mining into the hearts of the world, felling ancient woodland with no other aim than further destruction.

They carved a line south, skirting between the mountains and the disturbing air of the Necropolis. Schild Mountain flashed in the far distance, the Veritas burrowed in deep like some bloated tick. No matter how hard the Legion scratched their parasite would not be dislodged, instead the mountain and the land around suffered.
They turned west, Sammal’s wings and back ached from carrying the extra weight, some enchantments had helped offset the load, but the draconic body was still young. The Sharahan range of hills undulated below, the Exigo encampment, mines and their problematic squatters rolled past closer than Sammal would have liked.

So much conflict, so much precariously held balance. The Legion held off the Mossdale orcs, battled the Veritas, marched its army across the lands; The Veritas struggled futilely against the inevitable; the Blades looked to their weapons for answers; the Black Hand slammed its fist on anything that opposed it.

There was one thing that linked all these, one dark and toxic canker that had spread its tendrils limbs into every part of the land. It was the one who supplied weapons, armour, food and magic to any and all that could pay. It had no conscience, no scruples, no desire past amassing wealth, no matter who or what got hurt in the process.

Form ever follows function; an old but true statement, and equally true in reverse. Each shape, be in unnatural or natural, had a function; the thing it excelled at most. A rabbit was a rabbit, a wolf was a wolf. Swords were never drawn in peace, and once beaten into ploughshares were never raised in war. Any man who changes his shape takes on a part of the nature of the form, takes on its function; the innate nature of a form allowed him to fly as a bird or bat, it allowed him to process the smells as a bear or wolf, it stopped him from vomiting in ocular confusion as a beholder, but the function of the form could change the man – Cocks crow, cats stalk, bears eat and dragons…

Far in the distance he caught sight of the tallest of the Exigo trade posts pennants, he muttered a few phrases as he flew, feeling a second strength flood into his muscles, the edges of his claws taking on a sharper, crueler edge. Dragons… Well, they bring terror.

[Verrath]

All too soon, they were losing altitude. Annie ached all over from the unaccustomed position, as well as clinging frantically to the scaly neck for fear of falling off - but oh, it had been worth it! She imagined that carrying the extra weight must be a strain to Sulfur, too. The thought occurred to her belatedly that she could have just shifted into a smaller, lighter version of herself. A tricky feat, but she'd found a way a while ago.

Banking sharply, the dragon alighted, jerking her out of her thoughts by the necessity to fling her arms around his neck with a strangled yelp.

"Wha... Sulfur, are you nuts? What do you want here?" Said Annie when she recognized the surroundings. They were perhaps a mile down the road from the Exigo Trade Post, the familiar and well-trodden path rolled away into the distance. The dragon was looking towards its gates fixedly.

Sulfur grinned insolently. "Heh... sorry?" He wriggled, making Annie almost lose balance. Grumbling, she hopped clumsily to the ground trying to pretend she'd meant to dismount all along.

She frowned. "We talked about this. You know what the Keeper said."

He ignored her.

"Sulfur, don't do anything stupid now, you hear?" But the dragon only smirked, and inhaled deeply as he started sinuously forward.

"Sulfur! Damn you!" She was surprised to hear the fearful squeak in her voice.

It was inevitable that their arrival had been noticed; the passerby, thankfully few this late in the day, gaped; cries of "dragon!" went up nervously. One drew his blade and stepped closer. Annie groaned inwardly, and tried to calm the man with a gesture.

"Stay back... I've got this covered," she said tightly, "... I think."

At this very moment, she wanted to tan Sulfur's hide.

[TheBrogueadier]

The landing was bumpy, in his enthusiasm he’d come in too fast, resulting in a series of clumsy hops and jumps as he tried to lose speed.

He had intended to come down within the Exigo Trading Post itself, but he’d realized that Annie might not be as enthusiastic about reducing the hated Exigo to smoldering rubble as he was. Even in her human form Annie could have ruined his ability to fly, the idea of her transforming into a dire bear while on his back was, once you moved past the amusing mental image of a young red dragon and dire bear plummeting out of the sky locked in mortal combat, quite frankly terrifying.

Instead he’d put down a mile or so down the road. A young elf woman who’d been strolling innocently along the path looked on with slack-jawed surprise.

“Wha… Sulfur! Are you nuts? What do you want here?” Annie squeaked from his back, her arms still wrapped around his neck from the clumsy landing.

Sammal rumbled a deep and bassy chuckle “Sorry” the words escaped him with a steam-like hiss. He shrugged and wriggled, feeling Annie slither slowly around his neck before dropping to the floor and tottering away from him.

A frown set in across her face, her cheeks flushed with annoyance and righteous indignation “We talked about this; you know what the Keeper said”

He ignored her.

“Sulfur.” She barked his name “Don’t you do anything stupid now, you hear?” He heard, but didn’t care. He slunk towards her with cat-like predatory movements emitting a threatening low rumble, more vibration than noise.

“Sulfur! Damn you!” The sound was half fearful, tinged with confusion and touched by defiance. It was, Sammal realized, the most emotion he’d seen her display in a long time.

Behind her the elfin traveler, Arawen he realized, had been joined by another pair; another elf, male this time and a figure in blood-red armor. The sound of the armored man’s sword coming free of its scabbard was quiet, yet somehow carried across the strange tableau.

Annie turned to face the trio, holding her hands up in supplication “Stay back… I’ve got this covered” Her voice was strained and tight, behind her Sammal reared up, filling his lungs with cool fresh air “I think…”

[TheBrogueadier]

His pupils were barely wider than paper cuts, invisibly thin slits set into glittering golden irises, but the brightness of the flame still burned at his retina.

As the jet of flame shut off a near silence reigned, only the gentle plinking and ticking of stones or the pop of spitting wood sounded. A blackened and charred V spread out in front Sammal, everything within it had been all but destroyed. Everything except Annie and a tight circle of greenery around her.

“Nnngh?” She volunteered.

Sammal was impressed she’d managed to complete the enchantment in time. He watched her face flick through a mixture of emotions and reactions; Shock, horror, surprise, anger, betrayal, pain, fear and peace.

A movement caught his eye, the red armored man had begun to advance with his sword at the ready. Sammal recognized him from a few encounters on the Sestran Bridge. He’d been brusque, pathologically well presented, and had a general air of being simultaneously both very rude, and very polite. The man seemed to tick the boxes of the type of person who saw it as his never ending duty to unflinchingly rid the world of evil creatures such as red dragons and would do so with extra enthusiasm if it involved saving a fair maiden.

Sammal had a sneaking suspicion that pointing out to the man that Annie, having taken a bardic lover and husband and having borne him two children, was now by definition as far removed from being a maiden as you could get without changing gender, would go down as well as putting his claws up and suggesting that this was all the work of some cunning stunt.

Besides, Annie’s face had now moved onto to that irritating mulish expression. Faced with certain defeat at Annies temper and the possibility of becoming an adventures wall hanging Sammal turned tail and launched himself into the air.

[Verrath]

Annie started to take a step back, but then her inborn stubborn streak took over. Sulfur couldn't possibly be going through with.... or coud he? She could see his lungs filling, filling... frantically, she called out to Chauntea to protect her. Just in case.

His slitted pupils dilated for an instant in anticipation, and then Sulfur exhaled, flames shooting from his maw and obscuring the red, scaly shape in waves of heat.

She nearly sagged with relief when she felt the brief, cool tingle that told her the Earthmother had answered, even as a wall of fire engulfed her entirely.

"Nnnngh!" She protested, squeezing her eyes shut against the blinding light.

When spots stopped dancing before her eyes, she could only stare at the reptilian form before her. How could he? He might have killed her! Looking around herself, she saw that thankfully nobody else had been close enough, and that most of the damage was confined to a V-Shape of charred ground and cracked rock, fanning out from Suflur's still steaming nostrils.

He must have known I'd be able to protect myself. That's it. He was just trying to show off. That's the reason. It IS! Oh, but she had words for him. She never realized her face took on that look that so many had come to recognize as Full Mule Mode (without her ever having been able to figure out how they knew).

Behind her, the man with his sword out - it was Baragorn - advanced on the dragon, intent, apparently, on saving her despite her earlier words.

Before she could say anything, Sulfur, finally taking in the situation and that he was behaving like an utter idiot, spread his wings with a leathery crack, and launched himself into the air.

It took a while for her to calm tempers - any but her own, which only rose as she replayed the scene before her eyes again and again - but eventually the mini-crowd dispersed, and Annie wandered back towards the Viridale, heading for the Druid Glade.

The gall of the man!

[TheBrogueadier]

If you took a wolf from the wild, and placed it in a cage it would fight, snapping at the bars and trying to claw its way out for as long as it had energy. After a while, the animal would be too tired to fight. It would give up.

Animals had to be animals – The rabbit needed to burrow, the wolf needed to roam and be free, the eagle had to soar. If they were denied what defined them, they ceased to be what they were.

Sulfur had seen a few such beasts in his time, the caged wolf half-bald and emaciated, pacing the same steps day in and day out, the hawk that plucked at its own feathers in madness. After enough time, even with the cage removed, the animals would never recover, the cage so ingrained in the action and mind of the creature that they could not perceive freedom.

He watched Annie, once again she paced the road outside of Arbiters Stand, the curves of a youthful mother now withered to the sinewy, haunted frame of a caged animal, a far-away look in her eyes that reminded him of the glassy eyed madness of a beast who’s mind had long since broken.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Huh? Oh!" Annie's eyes focused slowly. "I eat. Regularly. I had an apple... not too long ago," she added vaguely.

"Of course you did. Now, come with me"

It didn't take long to reach the Ranger’s Rest, it wasn't too far as the crow flies.

The normal occupants of the bar chatted amongst themselves, paying no attention to the two druids. Sulfur smiled at the barman.

“Duck for her, lightly cooked. She needs the iron. Venison for me”

They found a quiet table and took a seat, Sulfur watching her with his normal semi-glare, he took in her raised cheekbones, hollow cheeks and darkly circled eyes. He watched her pick at the food.

“You look like shit” Sulfur hadn’t meant it as an insult; it was a simple statement of fact.

“I’ve had more things to worry about than looks recently.”

“Food is energy, look at yourself. Even if you succeed in getting your children back, how do you expect to be able to feed them?”

We watched her as she ran through what he’d said, a look somewhere between sadness, anger and pain blurred on her face.

“They’ll be on solids by now” Her reply was quiet, almost meek.

He twisted the knife, “I see, and statues are known for growing up fast?”

That worked, Annie’s fork hovered above her plate. For a moment he half wondered if she’d cry, and if she did how much trouble he’d get into for slapping her. As much as he thought she needed it, there was always the worry that she’d slap back as a bear.

“They were almost off of milk when they were taken.”

“Then I suspect not much has changed.”

That damnable look again, self pity, self loathing. Gods shit there was enough loathing and pity in the world as it was without foisting it into yourself.

“You know” He chewed a cut off hunk of his meal “When I first met you, you proudly introduced yourself as a Guardian of the Grove. A protector of the wild.”

He finished his meat with a gulp, then smiled.

“Now look at you, unable to protect your children, unable to protect yourself, unable to even feed yourself. A shadow of who you once were. Skinny, boney, self-obsessed.”

He pushed himself up off of the bench, scattering a handful of coins on the table as she gaped with surprise.

“I used to respect you, fear you even. For who you were and what you stood for. Now...”

Sometimes opening the cage was not enough. If the bars were in the head then the animal might need goading and angering into remembering what it was, and what it could be.

“I pity you.”

He let the words hang for a moment, and then swept out before she could reply.

[Verrath]

"I pity you."

The words were like a slap in the face, and as from a slap, her head still rang with them. She had no chance to respond before Sammal rose smoothly and headed for the door.

Moments later, the creak and crackle of transformation sounded from outside, then the leathery snap of large wings unfolding and a whoosh of air. Bloody beast of a man. Probably off to get himself into more trouble.



It had all started innocently enough, and she'd actually been a bit touched by his concern for her condition - which was, if she admitted it to herself, quite pitiful.

She was eating regularly. The thought was sullen, but she said little as the unkempt Druid hustled her to the Ranger's Rest, the faint scent of Brimstone hanging about him filling her nose.

She didn't protest when he ordered duck; and she barely flinched when he told her again how horrible she looked. What did it matter?

"I've had more things to worry about than looks recently."

"Food is energy, look at yourself. Even if you succeed in getting your children back, how do you expect to be able to feed them"

She tried not to react, to look aloof, but by the triumphant look on Sulfur's face, he knew he had scored. Each further word he spoke was tossing salt into the wound, and slowly, anger began to bubble where there had only been despair and a hollow, empty ache lately.

Wait, he had feared her? Respected... she'd never asked for that. She did what she did, and she was grateful for the powers the Earthmother granted her. She supposed that deserved some respect.

But her babies... she felt caged - there seemed nothing she could do to help them that would not at the same time endanger their lives. Her sweet, innocent little girls. Sulfur's words faded into the background, not muted enough to stop fanning that bubbling, resurfacing anger. It was time to-

"I pity you."

She sat there a long time, hardly hearing the words of commiseration from Daelus, who joined her soon after. She could not remember what she replied to him, if anything.

But when she left, only a collapsed jumble of bones was left of the duck Sulfur had ordered for her.