The tense expression on Thraxinthos' face sags with relief when the youthful Selunite manages to shutter the dome at the top of the Astronomy Tower before any cultists can enter. "Good. Good work, saviour."The crimson dragonborn sighs, then speeds back downstairs, knowing that their reprieve is likely to be short-lived. Dralmorrer remains tucked under his arm, bouncing around helpless and doll-like - the commander of the cultists infantilised through this treatment. "They will still try to get in. No more time. Saviours must hurry!"
However, as he beholds the newly hatched dragon for the first time, multiple sets of eyelids blink in astonishment. "Where... where did that come from?" The barbarian looks stunned, approaching the infant cautiously, a hard look on his face. "Black dragons are evil. The most cruel. The most angry. Usually alone. Dangerous."
He extends one immense claw, only to use it, unexpectedly, to stroke the hatchling's tiny head. His gentleness is almost comical - even restrained, Thrax's 'delicate' touch threatens to knock the little creature over. "They say much the same. About red dragons. Red dragonborn." He frowns in thought and steadies the child, feeling a peculiar kinship with the hatchling. If Bahamut could open a path for one such as he, why not for this black dragon child? Wasn't that what he had learned? It was choice and action, not the colour of scales that made a creature what it was.
Images flash unbidden in his mind - monstrous 'brothers' that he glimpsed through the tiliskub appear before Thrax's eyes once more. "Waervaerendor and Voaraghamanthar. Strange that they should all be together. Their child. Or their clutchmates. Their family?"
History: 9. (Does Thrax recognise the murky potion or the emblem on the badge discovered earlier?)
The black dragon hatchling lets out a harmless sneeze at Zeds boop and looks to Thrax like a baby pup would to its parent. It begins leaning into Thrax's hand and stumbles over to the rations once taken out and takes a big bite. It eats awkwardly and somewhat of a mess as it more often than not tries to swallow the food without chewing.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
The tense expression on Thraxinthos' face sags with relief when the youthful Selunite manages to shutter the dome at the top of the Astronomy Tower before any cultists can enter. "Good. Good work, saviour." The crimson dragonborn sighs, then speeds back downstairs, knowing that their reprieve is likely to be short-lived. Dralmorrer remains tucked under his arm, bouncing around helpless and doll-like - the commander of the cultists infantilised through this treatment. "They will still try to get in. No more time. Saviours must hurry!"
However, as he beholds the newly hatched dragon for the first time, multiple sets of eyelids blink in astonishment. "Where... where did that come from?" The barbarian looks stunned, approaching the infant cautiously, a hard look on his face. "Black dragons are evil. The most cruel. The most angry. Usually alone. Dangerous."
He extends one immense claw, only to use it, unexpectedly, to stroke the hatchling's tiny head. His gentleness is almost comical - even restrained, Thrax's 'delicate' touch threatens to knock the little creature over. "They say much the same. About red dragons. Red dragonborn." He frowns in thought and steadies the child, feeling a peculiar kinship with the hatchling. If Bahamut could open a path for one such as he, why not for this black dragon child? Wasn't that what he had learned? It was choice and action, not the colour of scales that made a creature what it was.
Images flash unbidden in his mind - monstrous 'brothers' that he glimpsed through the tiliskub appear before Thrax's eyes once more. "Waervaerendor and Voaraghamanthar. Strange that they should all be together. Their child. Or their clutchmates. Their family?"
History: 9. (Does Thrax recognise the murky potion or the emblem on the badge discovered earlier?)
Thrax does not recognize those items.
The black dragon hatchling lets out a harmless sneeze at Zeds boop and looks to Thrax like a baby pup would to its parent. It begins leaning into Thrax's hand and stumbles over to the rations once taken out and takes a big bite. It eats awkwardly and somewhat of a mess as it more often than not tries to swallow the food without chewing.