SeanobiIII
Armez Tefir's custom "Scale Splitter" specialized launcher w/ winch and five darts (removed from their sabots)
Imagine the shock these two ragged farmers felt when they were suddenly addressed by a from across the bar. "What did you see?!" Bellowing, his heavily-accented words punched through the room like a sonic haymaker. He instantly commanded their attention.
He stepped down from the barstool so fast it almost appeared his body skipped a few frames, and within a breath the two farmers found themselves joined in their huddle by a hideous visage paired with the body of a ploughing ox. "Tell me. Now."
They shivered, stunned into stupors, beyond tongue-tied into voiceless as a drought overtook their mouths. How could he have heard their whispers over the ambient clatter of the bar around them? One looked to the other; one had his gaze frozen upon the stranger.
It was Alric who spoke first: "H-How did you...?"
"That is not an answer, serf." A thick, dirt and ash blackened finger stuck out like an accusing arrow at the frightened man. "It is not my ears that have been crippled." He tapped at the mangled strips of uneven scar tissue that covered his right eye. "My hearing is keen enough to scour nearby conversations for... topics of interest. It is my training. I am Armez Tefir. I am a specialist in these matters. So, again, repeat yourself, for my courtesy."
It was not courtesy that loosened Fellin's tongue, but strong trepidation. "It was a dragon," he exclaimed much less candidly than desired.
"What kind of dragon? Where exactly?"
The word had carried through the surrounding patrons in a matter of moments, and an impending panic seemed to follow immediately after. Armez boomed out a command. "Quiet!" Not all, but most obeyed. "There is no dragon here, you are safe." Still, most remained standing, unsettled by the mere notion of such a beast within chomping range.
Armez returned his attention to the two farmers. "Continue. Quieter."
"We... we saw it outside of the FEI-RIS facility outside of town. Fellin and I were returning from work late last night, and we took a shortcut through their freight yard."
Fellin nodded and interrupted. "Th-they were loading it into the main building from a big cargo container. A fancraft carried it in from the direction of the Alphaxian border, so we were pretty suspicious right away."
"FEI-RIS. I wonder what they want with a dragon." Armez grimaced ponderously. Alphaxia, what a surprise. He had only finished hunting the things in the Axephulids just one week ago. "What kind was it?"
"What kind?"
"Yes, what species of dragon? A Gray wyvryn? A Darvinsher's frostwurm? It's important."
Alric shrugged nervously, turning to his companion in the hope that he had a sufficient amount of knowledge to answer. He didn't. "Um, I... How can you tell?"
"What color was it? Give me an idea of size, too. Could you tell if the area around it had a rippling effect, like the air at the tip of a flame?"
That caught Fellin's attention. "Yeah! I said that, it looked those air ripples on pavement in the summer!"
So it was a fire breather. Armez tensed. He could have done without a fire breather. It struck him, though, that Alphaxia had many various indigenous species, but the climate was far too cold and the terrain too mountainous for a fire breather's metabolism to maintain. "Hmm. It may have gone through Alphaxia, but it could not have been from there. The size?"
Fellin glanced to Alric, seeking assistance. "Ehhh, what would you say, twenty feet long?"
"It was as big, if not just a little bigger, than the truck that hauled it in. It took up an entire flatbed."
Armez reminded himself that, as far as dragons go, twenty feet wasn't the biggest he had seen, let alone that he had fought. But it was twice the size of any fire breather he had dealt with, and close to the largest he'd heard of.
"So... why do you want to know all of this?"
"Because," Armez told them as he turned to leave the bar. "I'm going to collect its tongue and leave its body to rot." In the next moment, he had left to prepare, and Alric and Fellin of Govingrad were left, bewildered, in front of two half-finished pints of cider.
Armez Tefir's custom "Scale Splitter" specialized launcher w/ winch and five darts (removed from their sabots)
Imagine the shock these two ragged farmers felt when they were suddenly addressed by a from across the bar. "What did you see?!" Bellowing, his heavily-accented words punched through the room like a sonic haymaker. He instantly commanded their attention.
He stepped down from the barstool so fast it almost appeared his body skipped a few frames, and within a breath the two farmers found themselves joined in their huddle by a hideous visage paired with the body of a ploughing ox. "Tell me. Now."
They shivered, stunned into stupors, beyond tongue-tied into voiceless as a drought overtook their mouths. How could he have heard their whispers over the ambient clatter of the bar around them? One looked to the other; one had his gaze frozen upon the stranger.
It was Alric who spoke first: "H-How did you...?"
"That is not an answer, serf." A thick, dirt and ash blackened finger stuck out like an accusing arrow at the frightened man. "It is not my ears that have been crippled." He tapped at the mangled strips of uneven scar tissue that covered his right eye. "My hearing is keen enough to scour nearby conversations for... topics of interest. It is my training. I am Armez Tefir. I am a specialist in these matters. So, again, repeat yourself, for my courtesy."
It was not courtesy that loosened Fellin's tongue, but strong trepidation. "It was a dragon," he exclaimed much less candidly than desired.
"What kind of dragon? Where exactly?"
The word had carried through the surrounding patrons in a matter of moments, and an impending panic seemed to follow immediately after. Armez boomed out a command. "Quiet!" Not all, but most obeyed. "There is no dragon here, you are safe." Still, most remained standing, unsettled by the mere notion of such a beast within chomping range.
Armez returned his attention to the two farmers. "Continue. Quieter."
"We... we saw it outside of the FEI-RIS facility outside of town. Fellin and I were returning from work late last night, and we took a shortcut through their freight yard."
Fellin nodded and interrupted. "Th-they were loading it into the main building from a big cargo container. A fancraft carried it in from the direction of the Alphaxian border, so we were pretty suspicious right away."
"FEI-RIS. I wonder what they want with a dragon." Armez grimaced ponderously. Alphaxia, what a surprise. He had only finished hunting the things in the Axephulids just one week ago. "What kind was it?"
"What kind?"
"Yes, what species of dragon? A Gray wyvryn? A Darvinsher's frostwurm? It's important."
Alric shrugged nervously, turning to his companion in the hope that he had a sufficient amount of knowledge to answer. He didn't. "Um, I... How can you tell?"
"What color was it? Give me an idea of size, too. Could you tell if the area around it had a rippling effect, like the air at the tip of a flame?"
That caught Fellin's attention. "Yeah! I said that, it looked those air ripples on pavement in the summer!"
So it was a fire breather. Armez tensed. He could have done without a fire breather. It struck him, though, that Alphaxia had many various indigenous species, but the climate was far too cold and the terrain too mountainous for a fire breather's metabolism to maintain. "Hmm. It may have gone through Alphaxia, but it could not have been from there. The size?"
Fellin glanced to Alric, seeking assistance. "Ehhh, what would you say, twenty feet long?"
"It was as big, if not just a little bigger, than the truck that hauled it in. It took up an entire flatbed."
Armez reminded himself that, as far as dragons go, twenty feet wasn't the biggest he had seen, let alone that he had fought. But it was twice the size of any fire breather he had dealt with, and close to the largest he'd heard of.
"So... why do you want to know all of this?"
"Because," Armez told them as he turned to leave the bar. "I'm going to collect its tongue and leave its body to rot." In the next moment, he had left to prepare, and Alric and Fellin of Govingrad were left, bewildered, in front of two half-finished pints of cider.