Darin grabbed the whelp’s tail while being careful to avoid the spikes. He sunk his claws in to get a better grip, but failed to cause any damage. “Let go of me, you runt.” The black whelp demanded. A moment later he lashed out again, but failed to free his tail.
“My turn.” Darin declared before attacking. Following a hunch, he bit down on the tail with all his might. The thing about beaks, is that they are often designed to crack things open. Darin was rewarded with a soft crunch, a loud cry of pain and a very satisfying pop up window.
Racial ability unlocked: Crushing Bite
“Deals damage, strips armor, and hurts like hell."
Attack: You deal 2 damage, status inflicted Armor Break, status inflicted Broken Tail.
“I’ll kill you, you little shit!” Roared the whelp, waking up a few more sleeping dragons. Darin was so distracted by the message window, he barely dodged when his foe whirled about and lunged at him. Letting go of the broken tail, he jumped to the side as a Spikey slashed. He didn’t have enough hit points to fight a straight battle. What did have, was crazy agility and natural can opener. It could work, he mused.
“Is that all you’ve got? Are you a dragon, or just a spiked shelled turtle with a whip tail?” Darin taunted. The rage in his opponent’s eyes told him it had worked. A moment later, Spikey dashed forward and tried to bite his head off. Darin avoided him by jumping up, flying forward and landing on his assailant’s back. As the whelp turned to thrash, he dug his claws in to keep his footing.
Attack: You deal 1 damage.
“Now that’s more like it.” Darin cheered. It seems that after lowering their defense, even his weak attacks do damage. He was all set to bit one of the spinal spikes, when a wing bone clubbed him in the face. The world seemed to spin, but he managed to keep his grip. Falling off, would surely mean death by now.
Dragon whelp has dealt you 2 damage.
“You like that? Want some more, pocket sized?” Spikey taunted, before pressing his attack. He swung his wings at Darin again and again, expecting to beat him into submission.
Dragon whelp has dealt you 1 damage.
Dragon whelp has dealt you 2 damage.
“Sure. I’ll take a bite!” Darin growled back, snapping his beak onto the next wing to come close. This asshole really needs to learn his place.
“What? Hold-” The whelp began. His voice failed him, as a loud crunch filled the air. Many of the on lookers cringed or looked away as the wing flopped over. A few others looked on with savage glee.
Attack, Critical Hit: You deal 7 damage, status inflicted Armor Break, status inflicted Broken Wing.
Spikey’s whole body began to shake, causing Darin to tense up further. He looked toward the other wing, but saw the it swing well out of reach. A piteous wail filled the air around him, he soon realized it was the whelps.
“Stop. Please stop. I give, I give. Your perch, I leave…” Was all the black whelp could managed. He sounded so pathetic that Darin agreed. With a few strokes of his wings, Darin left his back and watched from a few feet above him. This caused a murmur amongst the other dragons, but he was more worried about the whelp in front of him.
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“Then go.” He commanded. Spikey looked up at him, where he hovered. In his eyes was a mix of pain, rage and fear. The fear must have won out, because he departed as fast as he could. Though a whimper or curse could be heard, when ever something touched a broken limb. Once he was clear, Darin relaxed his wings and came in to land. The perch smelled like fresh blood now, but in time it would join the old stains in the stone. It seemed strange, but the smell of his foe’s blood made it all the more cozy here.
“I never realized you were that cruel, Hatchling.” Said a familiar voice. Turning his head he realized that Greenie was occupying one of the nearby ledges. He hadn’t even noticed her during the fight.
“Cruel?” He asked. Battle was battle after all, and he’d been provoked.
“You crippled his favorite weapon and his wing. And I can tell you from experience, a broken wing hurts like hell. Unless a powerful healer takes pity on him, he wont be flying for a few days either. Oh, and you rubbed his face in it too.”
“What? I let him go after he gave up…” Darin protested.
“Yes, you did. And then you flew in place, above the person who’s wing you just snapped. Like I said, cruel. And all that just to challenge him for a ledge”
“No. I flew out of his reach, because I didn’t trust him.” Darin countered, but he could tell she didn’t actually care. “As to the ledge, I was already sleeping here before he attacked me. I’m not fond of waking up injured and falling.” He explained. She eyed him for a moment and shrugged.
“It’s one way to climb the social ladder. He might think of revenge, but I doubt he’ll try for a rematch.” Greenie told him. She let the point sink in, while lowering her head and closing her eyes. “So you’re the smallest, but not the weakest…”
Soon after she spoke, her breathing changed. Sleep claimed her swiftly, leaving Darin alone on his ledge. He took one last paranoid look about, then lowered his head and closed his eyes. He still had several hit points to recover, and the gentle rumbling lulled him to sleep. While he rested easy, the counter on his quest resumed. No one else dared wake the little spit-fire before morning.
* * * * *
Darin woke later the next morning, feeling refreshed and restored. He’d never have expected to sleep so well on solid stone, but it had been blissful. As he stretched his wings, a notification popped up.
Quest: Bed time - Completed.
You can now know the location: Hatchery.
A good night sleep has helped to refresh and restore you. Now you are less likely to be a cranky little Hatchling. Good luck with finding your shell.
He cleared the message and thought of the Hatchery. He knew right away that he needed to exit the Rumbling Room he was in and turn right. “Another game of follow the bread crumbs then.” He muttered. If he couldn’t have a map, there were worse ways to navigate than knowing where places are. A quick check showed that his bandoleer hadn’t taken damage in the fight. His stomach made a noise, encouraging him to detour first. He focused on the Dinning Hall, only to feel his sense of navigate fade away. “Right,” he grumbled, “I never learned that one from a quest.” With no one he recognized around, he headed for the Hatchery. He was sure that someone there could lead him to the Dinning Hall…even if he had to burn someone’s face off.
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Author’s Notes: Thanks for reading, I hope you liked. I’m still trying to get him out into the wider world of mishaps. There are still a few scenes to play out first, as well as a few good-bad jokes. Feedback always welcome.