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Power?
Sept 3, 2008 7:55:21 GMT -5
Post by arrasailsup on Sept 3, 2008 7:55:21 GMT -5
A flitting shadow. A beam of moonlight across the floor. A sudden cloud. Flickering candlelight.
Lahin Kusefano Jinu Flyckin, also known by the less grandoise name of Snapper, was tired. But he couldn't sleep. She was coming.
No, he most certianly couldn't sleep.
A low, rasping growl rumbled deep in his chest. The massive lavander-scaled draco yawned widely, stretching his equally massive wings. Snapper was intimidating, even for a draco. But she would never be intimidated.
Sometimes Snapper wondered if she really was human, like she said.
Who was he kidding? Of course she wasn't human.
The so-called leader of the dracos in the Aeronite Mountains sighed. Things hadn't been going so well lately. Well, they were going fine, but they could be better. A few of the hated dragons had been slain, some through the efforts of his 'friend'.
But they just didn't have enough gold. Even he, the leader (of-sorts) of this city, wasn't exactly rolling in riches.
The flickering shadows cast by the candle were so mesmerizing...Lahin felt his eyelids droop.
Just when the candle was extinguished.
Snapper's head jerked up, pupils dilating, clawed hand reaching for the hilt of his blade.
"Come out." He growled, scales prickling. It had to be her.
And it was.
Unnaturally coloured eyes of green-and-silver striped stared at him, fathomless. Her skin was pale, contrasting sharply with the long black tresses that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a robe as dark as her hair, with a long, thin blade at her waist.
She wasn't much to look at, but appearances were often decieving.
Snapper let some of the tension drain out of him, slumping back into the large chair thata passed for a throne.
"Hello, Lehinae." He muttered, fidgeting slightly. The straight-backed chair was uncomfortable, especially when taking his long, muscled tail into account. But appearances had to be maintained. Even though they were often decieving.
"Milord Flyckin." The woman curtsied, the faintest trace of a sardonic tone in her voice. "You wished to see me?"
"Yes, Lehinae. There is a...matter. This dragon..." Snapper bit his lip, the tip of his tail twitching. He hated having to need the...services of this particular person.
"Just give me the name, and I shall do the rest." There was an odd gleam in Lehinae's eyes, one that made Snapper's scales prickle. But he needed her. She was the best there was, or so she claimed.
"Very well." He rasped at last. "The great emerald dragon, Belgarein."
Was it his imagination, or was there a look of glee in Lehinae's eyes? Then it was gone, replaced by the common stoicness.
"Ah, Belgarein. Your consort, Rhannila, was one of his many offspring, correct?"
How did that infernal woman know so much? Snapper fought to keep a semblance of calm.
"Yes. Your payment?"
"The same." Lehinae drawled. "I take the silver and emeralds in the dragon's hoard, as well as anything I have a fancy to. You will know of my success soon enough."
Light suddenly flared, and Snapper shut his eyes.
When he looked again, Lehinae was gone. ~~~ Languorwine chuckled to herself as she sauntered along the city, now in the guise of a draco with scales and a tail as white as snow. Belgarein the Emerald. Bound to have a lot of beautiful things. Emerald things, more specifically, although she liked silver more.
Ah well. One can't have everything in life.
She started humming a quiet tune, wondering idly if she would meet any immortals on her way.
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Power?
Sept 15, 2008 23:17:34 GMT -5
Post by Duckling! on Sept 15, 2008 23:17:34 GMT -5
Belgarein the dragon was poor or rather, his hoard no longer matched that of his opponents. His solution had been truly draconic- tithes. No one had been quite happy with that arrangement, since Belgarien the Thinker had a dragon's head for figures- that is to say, none at all.
Courtesy had demanded that she stepped in and offer her services. Courtesy and self-interest, that is.
As for whether or not the dragonlord had agreed of his own free will, well, that was hardly the issue. Dragonlords were always being manipulated one way or the other anyways; she had merely skipped to the magic. The point was that everyone would be happy now; she would have the new temple, her worshipers would get the gold they needed to pay off their debts, and Belgarein would be very much the richer.
The woman smiled, her expression smug as a cat's. She was beautiful, with exotic features that might appeal to a dragonlord who collected oddities from distant lands. One who did not know her might have found it odd that she happened to be in the employ of Belgarein, whose excesses had lead partly to his ruin. It was also strange that she looked down, her gaze lazy and unconcerned, from a balcony of Draco, absently letting a rat nose at her fingers.
Her eyes focused upon a white draco, an oddity. White dragons were a rarity those days, and so were their mongrel children. Even stranger, this one had the aura of an immortal. She smiled, recognizing the "taste" of this particular aura. Picking up the rat and setting it on her shoulder, she walked through the house to the streets. Levitating would have been faster, but it would have been too flashy.
Moira dipped her head towards the demigoddess and waited.
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Power?
Sept 19, 2008 5:39:09 GMT -5
Post by arrasailsup on Sept 19, 2008 5:39:09 GMT -5
Lang tilted her white-haired head curiously. This new arrival had the aura of an immortal. She recognized it, but it took a look at the rat perched on the woman's shoulder for a name to come to her mind.
She smiled warmly, if it was possible for her. "Hello, Moira."
The two got on well most of the time. Probably because Moira was so courteous. And they both liked their little trinkets. Silly Moira liked gold more than silver, but then and again, what did one expect from a former ratcatcher?
Of course, Languorwine was too polite to bring that up in conversation. The Pantheon must have seen something in her, if they would ascend someone like Aisa the Ratcatcher. What it was, Lang wasn't sure, but who was she to question the gods?
"I'm too conspicious, am I? White dracos are rather rare nowadays. Pity." Without waiting for a reply, Lang narrowed her golden eyes, concentrating on the transformation. Brilliant emerald green rippled across her white scales, and her white hair changed to dark brown.
"So, what are you doing here?" She asked casually, twitching her tail.
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Power?
Sept 19, 2008 22:41:15 GMT -5
Post by Duckling! on Sept 19, 2008 22:41:15 GMT -5
"Good evening, Languorwine," Moira answered with a half-smile. It was an expression meant to convey pleasure at this chance meeting in a polite manner. After all, it would be impolite to smile too broadly, in case others took offense at the implications. Not that there was anyone around to take offense but the rats, and those were easy to deal with. "This is a pleasant surprise."
"Indeed," she agreed, wondering if Lang was one of the reasons for the decline. Quite a few of the white dragonlords had met with unfortunate "accidents". She filed that question away to ask at a more convenient time.
"I have been retained by one of the dragonlords," she said, her mouth curving in a mischievous smile. There was no need to explain the details; she was notorious in certain circles for being fond of manipulating mortal minds. It was ridiculous, really; after all, if Vera hadn't meant for her to play with minds...
She let that thought dangle and turned her attention back to her explanation. "I decided to come here and see a few friends."
"And you, Languorwine?" she asked. She had a suspicion, aided by her reminder of the mysterious deaths of the white dragons. It would have been a rude thing to suggest, though, no matter how justified, so she naturally stayed silent.
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Power?
Sept 20, 2008 1:57:17 GMT -5
Post by arrasailsup on Sept 20, 2008 1:57:17 GMT -5
"Ah." Lang said neutrally, and cocked her head. All those Vera-types. They enjoyed messing with the minds of mortals too much. But then and again, who didn't?
"So, Moira, which dragon have you offered your services to?" She asked. It was probably unimportant (unless it was Belgarein of course, but what were the chances?) though Lang still wanted to know. If only for future references. After all, it wouldn't do to hurt her friend, would it?
She decided not to answer Moira's final question until later. Languorwine wasn't the demigoddess of politeness, after all.
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Power?
Sept 20, 2008 22:50:07 GMT -5
Post by Duckling! on Sept 20, 2008 22:50:07 GMT -5
Moira noted that Lang hadn't answered her question; if Lang wished to be secretive, then so be it. It would make no difference to her current plans, and she w as sure to find out soon, when news reached Belgarein of a mysterious death that none could solve.
She entertained the thought for a moment. If Lang was here to kill, which seemed the most likely, then it would profit her to "solve" the case. Not by leading them to Lang, of course, but to some foolish assassin with no protection. Having a few of her servants in high positions would be useful; manipulating dragons was exhausting.
She put her plans aside for a moment, focusing on the question.
"Belgarein," she said. Her smile showed her satisfaction; it wasn't often that she tried to ensnare a dragonlord, since they were difficult to manage. Even while wrapped tightly in spells, they were restless, constantly challenging authority. It was exhausting work, but the gold was worth it.
Gold was always worth it.
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Power?
Sept 21, 2008 6:42:13 GMT -5
Post by arrasailsup on Sept 21, 2008 6:42:13 GMT -5
There wasn't many times in her long life that Lang was so surprised. Belgarein? Just what were the chances?
Vera was definitely against her. Although why the goddess would care, Lang wasn't certain. Perhaps she was just getting paranoid. Or perhaps fate just liked playing tricks on her. It wasn't fair. She was the trickster.
"Ah....Are you sure it's Belgarein the Emerald? Or Belgarein the Thinker, as he is sometimes known as?" Perhaps there was another Belgarein.
Oh, who was she fooling? Still, it didn't hurt to ask.
Poor Moira. And dragons were hard to manipulate too...
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Power?
Sept 26, 2008 23:07:00 GMT -5
Post by Duckling! on Sept 26, 2008 23:07:00 GMT -5
"Yes, Belgarein the Thinker," Moira said. The slightest hint of a frown touched her expression; she could only think of only a few reasons as to why the demigoddess would care, and none of them were pleasing to contemplate.
It would lead to a vexing situation; it would be beyond rude to interfere with Languorwine's business, but it had taken so much work to get to this point. One didn't just head into the Aetherial Palace one day and bind a dragon to one's will, not unless one happened to be one of Malar's allies. If things went well, they could both keep their stakes, but considering the nature of Languorwine's 'business', that seemed unlikely.
"Why do you ask?" she asked, her tone nonchalant. She wished she had a fan to gesture with; it was so difficult to try to make obvious her curiosity beneath her mask of polite disinterest. "Do you 'work' with him, too?"
The answer was obvious, though. She hoped that Lang wasn't planning to assassinate the dragonlord. Dead dragons were even harder to manipulate than live ones.
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Power?
Oct 14, 2008 3:53:07 GMT -5
Post by arrasailsup on Oct 14, 2008 3:53:07 GMT -5
"Oh dear." Lang sighed. Belgarein wasn't exactly a common name, and dragons weren't exactly common. Unless Belgarein suddenly had a pure-blooded green son also named Belgarein the Emerald/Thinker, it seemed unlikely that her Belgarein and Moira's were different dragons.
Oh dear, dear. Languorwine liked Moira (sort of), but her business had to be done. Job before feelings and all. It didn't matter what her job was, does it?
"Can you...ah....be persuaded to change your allegiance to some other dragon?" Lang waved her hand vaguely. "Or, better yet, work for dracos?" That would ensure Moira end up on the same side as her. Perhaps.
Snapper had many rivals, after all. The idiot.
"Come now...I'll even give you a portion of those various gold trinkets I have..." It wasn't all that much. Silver was far superior to gold, after all.
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Power?
Nov 12, 2008 21:44:41 GMT -5
Post by Duckling! on Nov 12, 2008 21:44:41 GMT -5
It was not often that Moira faced a dilemma of this sort. She considered her options, weighing her respect- well, if she was to be honest, her liking of the demigoddess- for Languorwine and her greed.
"It does seem as though it might pose a problem," she agreed automatically. It was one of those pointless comments made only for the sake of politeness.
Her mind wandered to what she had always termed her "mortal years". She wondered what she would have done as a young child, when she had still been Aisa the rat-catcher. Aisa, it seemed to her, would have haggled like a rude fishwife, complete with some words that were never spoken in polite company, and, considering who the offer was from, been killed. Most demigods tended to be rather prickly where comments of an extremely personal nature were concerned, especially if they were interspersed with blasphemy. She hid a sigh. Sometimes she wondered how she'd survived back then or why Vera had deigned to take notice of her.
With an effort, she returned her thoughts to the issue at hand. It had been so hard to set up; it would make her time a waste, and as a once-mortal, she noticed its passing more than most. But on the other hand, she had no desire to sour her relationship with the demigoddess.
Time. She needed time to think of a delicate way of handling the situation.
"Are you busy?" she asked. "If you have the time, I was thinking that we could perhaps discuss this over tea."
Well, it was worth a try...
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Power?
Nov 13, 2008 9:46:09 GMT -5
Post by arrasailsup on Nov 13, 2008 9:46:09 GMT -5
Lang tilted her head, considering. Tea. She liked tea. And poor Moira probably wanted to negotiate. Well, she could give her fellow demigoddess this much at least. And tea was always good. Especially if they were served in silver and green teacups. Mmm. Tea.
"Sure, why not?" Lang said airily. "Lil Snappy never specified a time-limit. I guess he didn't dare." Let Moira make of that what she will.
Lang eyed the other demigoddess contemplatively. She could most definitely best Moira in combat, but she would much prefer it if it didn't come to that. Especially if Moira was paying for the tea.
"Right then, where shall we go?"
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