“Is there anything else we should know before going up there?” Madilyn asks, standing herself up.
Well, given how you all have been fairly well isolated, Luck begins, her eyes lingering ever so shortly on Ted and Sia, I’m not the only dragon to have found living down here tolerable. Humans have said that there is an Elder Dragon guarding the mountain as well these last several decades, black with maroon accents to his scales…
Luck trails off as she notes first Ted then Sia’s malignant grins.
“My dear Lady,” Sia says with a glint in her eyes.
“Pray tell us, what is this dragon’s name?” Ted finishes with a smile to match.
Sidney and Madilyn, seeing the two’s eyes and hearing their tone of voice shiver ever so slightly as they themselves have been subject to the two’s shenanigans over the years, and even participated in some of them.
Luck, perplexed and not unaware of Ted’s history, looks the entire group in the eyes briefly before landing on Ted.
An interesting dragon, known as a terror to all who invoke his ire, claiming to be lord of the mountain and head shepherd of flocks, though how he made it to these depths without being seen by those above has apparently been perplexing. His name is Brinlog.
- - - - - - - - -
In the caldera of a mountain, a sleeping dragon sneezes fire into the air. Aroused from sleep by the event, Brinlog wakes with a sense of something forgotten, like a sinew or scale stuck between a tooth. Observing his domain, he stretches out like an oversized apex predator, then roars into the sky to let all know the master is awake.
“What a kind and benevolent Lord I am,” Brinlog grumbles to himself before taking to the sky. Winging his way slowly across the caldera, catching the updrafts to send himself higher without exerting much effort, Brinlog happily gazes at the lava flows below with the scattered islands filled with treasure and plunder for those who would dare brave the heat and master of the realm.
Just before tilting himself over the rim and into the wider world, per tradition Brinlog gazes back at his ‘nest,’ filled to the brim with sheered, un-purified Satansheep wool, with scattered bits of gold, silver, and various other metals and gems strewn throughout.
After quite some time enjoying the breeze in the short sky, Brinlog drifts down towards the largest of three Satansheep flocks hours after announcing his return to work. Seeing his bipedal minions scrambling to be presentable has always been enjoyable, and Brinlog decides, albeit absentmindedly, that he will slowly drift towards them so that they may have more time to make themselves ready, along with a few apparent guests.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Once he is about 200 meters away however, he hears some scrambling on the rocks off to his left a fair distance, next to a large boulder. Turning his head, he sees a yellow-haired human female raise her hands to her mouth and yell.
“Hey lizard lips, do you know where I can find any dragons around here?!”
Briefly stunned by the lack of propriety and cordiality, Brinlog drifts off to his left. His minions, appropriately, have looks of panic ranging from jaw dropping disbelief to outright terror. Though hardly a second has passed, like all pregnant pauses a response will eventually be birthed.
Brinlog, fully turning about in the air, unleashes a roar which rattles the pebbles throughout the surrounding, causing the Satansheep to bleat and the shepherds to clutch their ears. The yellow-haired girl grins with audacity and sticks out her tongue before jumping behind the boulder as the fury of all dragons is unleashed from not but fifty meters away.
A full thirty seconds pass and, while not obvious, the flames begin to weaken ever so slightly as what should be a nearly a puddle of molten rock remains solid. Suspiciously so, and as such Brinlog is able to somewhat react to the boulder he was attempting to melt hurtling at him, parting the sea of flames spewing forth, and clipping his wing.
As he tumbles the now relatively short distance to the ground with a broken appendage, Brinlog could almost swear he hears a duck quack as a barrier of mountain rock raises itself between the fight and the flock.
Landing on his feet, he looks towards the former location of the boulder and sees not one, but two individuals there. Blinded briefly by rage, Brinlog shouts, “How dare you! Nobody would dare-!”
Brinlog freezes mid-monolog as a squeak-ah! travels across the space between the new man’s toy dragon and his mighty self.
“Brin!” Sia yells.
“Brinlo!” Ted quickly follows, squeezing the squeaker toy.
“No! Why are you here! I have done nothing wrong! And who are you?!” Brinlog shouts in Draconic, not noticing that his wing has already been healed.
“I’m Sia! I’m a big fan of your ‘show,’ I even helped out a few times in the band! I like the maroon highlights, and especially the highlights of the show! I used to watch them every few decades! Also, when did you pick up Draconic?! I memorized all of your lines and complaints and you said you would never stoop to learning that ‘bastardized Dragontongue.’ Is it because we started teaching the children in the later seasons?”
“No! This can’t be happening! And you! You were supposed to be dead! Nobody had heard from you in a century and a half before I finally decided to use that cursed token! Everyone out there assumes that you’re dead! I thought it was my chance! Why are you ruining this for me!”
“Slow down there Brinlog,” Ted says with a smile. “Take us back to your lair and we can talk, as I’m sure your minions are becoming nervous, oh Eternal Guardian of my sheep. It sounds as if we have some catching up to do. What made you decide to become a permanent, semi-immortal guardian of sheep?”
With a sigh, Brinlog slumps down to the ground. As Sia climbs up his left forepaw to his back with a giggle as she is going to be a Dragon Rider, Brinlog expounds on his dilemma.
“There is much less room for titanic ‘monsters’ of old in the world at large, and rather than be hunted down or relegating myself to obscurity like my parents, I thought to take you up on your offer all those centuries ago since this place was still around despite no perceived maintenance. Fortunately, I haven’t died yet so the resident adventurers don’t know about this reincarnation scam of yours, bound as I now am to this place, as I do suspect many more would actively try and hunt me than do currently.”
“Come on Ted! Hop up here!” Sia shouts down at him.
“Ted?” Brinlog says in confusion. “Ah, can you teleport us directly above the caldera? I’d like to dive straight in majestically while hiding you two from the others, but still prove I’m alive.”
“Certainly,” Ted says, hopping up in front of Sia.
“Hey!” she shouts before jabbing him in the ribcage. “My view!”
Before she can do much more, Ted grins and with a silent pop a large black and maroon dragon is seen floating near the ceiling and then dropping quickly and almost vertically down into the volcano’s caldera.