The Dragon's Cry

"Uh-oh," you say. "Here they come. Let's make tracks." You start off between the ruined, burning shells of the houses. After several meters you realize you're walking alone. You look back to meet the icy gaze of the silver woman.

"What are you doing?"

"We stand our ground," the woman says in a voice of steel. "It is not the coward's way to run."

After a second of hesitation, your heart pounding, you go back to her. Ordinarily you wouldn't, but since she seems to be your only ally in this world --after all, she did rescue you from death by fire and/or suffocation-- you feel you have some sort of obligation toward her. Still, the approaching cavalry doesn't exactly fill you with elation.

When you're standing right in front of her, you wave your arms theatrically. "Hello. Outnumbered? Do you always fight when you're at a disadvantage?" As if it weren't enough that she wanted to get killed on the castle walls, she wants to do it again here. Needless to say, you're getting pretty sick of it.

"We fight because we must," she answers cryptically.

That tears it. "Uh, excuse me, but we aren't going to fight. You stay here and beat them to a bloody pulp if you like. Pardon my dust." You start to leave.

She steps on your tail. Not hard; just enough to halt you.

"Ow!" (It didn't hurt, of course. But if she thinks it did, maybe she'll let go...

(No such luck.)

"I am afraid I did not make myself quite clear," she says, snapping each word out. "You do not know how to fight. You must learn."

You feel the blood draining from your face.

"I admit this is not the situation I would have preferred," she says, stepping a little harder against your struggles to get away. "But since we have missed our rendezvous I have no other choice."

She keeps talking.

The cavalry keeps coming.

"There is someone else who is far more skilled in this than I. However, I should make an adequate substitute."

Your tail is really hurting now.

"Now, I must tell you, physical combat is not all there is. You have seen me use magic. What you must know and learn is that you, too, have a great-- power!"

On the last word she stomps hard on the end of your tail. Your reaction is unexpected, even to you. Immediately after the stomp you suddenly transform into half-dragon state, muscles bulging, wings unfurling, neck elongating. You twist your head around and throw a violent shriek directly at her, feeling a great surge of power course through your body, and suddenly you are free. You twist away.

Breathing hard, you take a close second look. The silver woman is standing with her feet wide and braced, her arms crossed protectively in front of her face. The shimmering silver fabric of the sleeves is torn and ripped in several places, leaving strips of cloth dangling from her delicately pale arms and fluttering in the light morning breeze. The woman slowly lowers her arms and you see that she actually has a smile on her face, something that makes her look even more beautiful.

"That is your power."

You shake your head. "My power? I-- I don't understand. I felt... something. What was it?"

"Your power, your weapon, and your gift. Dragonling, I did not expect you to fight alone, or unarmed. There is much about weredragons that you do not know. You must learn to use your power, else all is lost."

"You're talking in riddles again."

The first line of Royal Guards appears from behind. You whirl defensively around, but the woman's voice is calm.

"We have no more time. The battle is at hand."

It's not a pretty fight. The silver woman really meant it when she said you had to learn to fight-- fortunately, she also meant it when she said she did not expect you to fight alone. Several times you are saved from certain decapitation by a well-timed fireball, but not from a storm of slashes and blows. Your scale-armored skin protects you from some blows, but the sharp blades have no trouble cutting deep into you. You quickly discover you have at least two weapons of your own: your tail and your shriek. You use the former to cover your back, thwarting more back attacks than you can count; the latter you don't yet know how to control, however, and that makes it unreliable. Sometimes a shriek-blast knocks a full flank of soldiers flat; other times it's no stronger than a good punch.

That last, sudden transformation left you tired; the battle is quickly driving you to exhaustion. If you could, you would transform to full dragon form and take care of them a little more quickly, but you have neither the time nor the energy. Even so, the ranks of attacking soldiers slowly diminish until the last one or two dozen decide to turn tail rather than face you and the woman. Through the pain and the exhaustion, you feel a sort of grim pleasure, not to mention relief, to see that.

"What was that you were saying about cowards?" you wryly ask the woman, who merely makes a face and doesn't answer. Her expression of disgust vanishes suddenly when she spots a small child picking her way over the charred hulk of a nearby house. Her long, straight golden hair and angelic face are streaked with soot. The loose black cloak she wears is tied with a bright blue cord, also streaked with patches of black, and seems to have been ripped rather than cut at the hem. She looks quite purposeful and her progress is determined, but her exhaustion is evident in her stumbling gait. Once she looks up, rubbing one eye with a sooty finger, she breathes a sigh of relief and lets a smile break over her face. Quickly she scrambles over to you.

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

You realize with no small amount of astonishment that this is the flute girl from... when? Last night? Yes, it's she, only wearing the black cloak instead of a blouse and jeans. Her brilliant green eyes glow in the early morning light, giving her an altogether otherworldly appearance.

Breathlessly she turns from you to the silver woman and bows. "Silver Angel," she says. The excitement in her voice is unmistakable. "It is such a pleasure to meet you at last."

Silver Angel-- why does that sound familiar? Oh yes, from the legends that not a few of the townspeople used to tell, not to mention the numerous travelers that stopped by the inn. Somehow you find it difficult to reconcile the panegyric tales of the Silver Angel with the woman who rescued you-- but you have no time to think about it now. The girl is tugging at your arm.

"Come on," she says, "follow me. Good thing I was around here when all this happened," she continues as she leads the way along the town streets, unquestionably expecting you to follow. Your body protests as you force it to move; you don't even have the energy to change into your more maneuverable human form. The girl is still talking: "Otherwise we would probably never have found you." She glances back, becoming serious. "I offer my condolences for your father's death. We can at least, I think, save your mother."

"Wait," you interject. "Who is 'we'?"

The girl laughs. "Why, the Children of the Ring, of course."

The Children of the Ring!

For the first time you notice that the girl is wearing a ring on her right hand. It is elaborate without being flashy, and bears a tiny insignia impossible to discern without close scrutiny. The Children of the Ring...

"I warn you, it will be a long and dangerous journey," the girl adds, indicating the forest stretching away to the north. Merely looking at it seems to double your exhaustion and your body feels made of lead. You want to tell her you're too tired to go anywhere, but she cuts into your words: "I do hope you are... prepared."

"I have shown him his power," the silver woman answers. "But his mastery of it is nearly nonexistent, I fear."

"Oh." The girl's brow creases. "Perhaps it is not a good idea to attempt this journey then."

"What about my mother?" you counter. "I really do want to find her. I'll do my best. I promise." Once I get some sleep and a few bandages, you add mentally.

"Your best may not be good enough," the silver woman says, but her tone indicates that, for once, this is entirely your decision. Either you take some time to learn more about your power, and risk losing the chance to save your mother, or plunge into the forest and learn as you go, deadly as that may turn out to be.

Would you rather...

Contributed by Jason Lomeli

Things to consider while writing in this branch

Shree's power.
- Can it be used for something(s) other than as a weapon?
- What are the conditions for invoking it?
- What sort of properties does it possess (and does it not possess)?
- Do ALL weredragons have this, or similar, or even any powers?
The Children of the Ring. 'Nuff said.
The girl's ring insignia. Could it match the rune seen in 1.2.2?


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