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Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (120/?) Revised Version
🕑 Added 2025-03-16 16:45:24 +0000 UTCAuthor’s Note: There’s been quite a few edits in this one! With most of the edits being done to the flashback of Articord’s class! I decided to remove a lot of the heavier lore details with regards to the Nexus’ political geography, primarily because I believed it interrupted with the flow of the chapter and made things just a little bit too clunky haha. I’m going to instead save that for a time where we get into the nitty gritty details of the Nexus’ political geography and divisions! :D Instead, this is more straight to the point, and provides the necessary details to introduce the Nexus’ geography as it relates to Emma’s current quest! :D As well as of course hinting at the nature and scale of the Nexus! I do hope it turned out alright! Other than that, there’s the usual changes done to correct grammar and spelling and such! :D As always, all of the revised sections are highlighted with an underline to easily see what’s been revised! :D
Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. En route to the Adventurer’s Guild Hall of Elaseer. Local Time: 1752 Hours.
Emma
“Ilunor?” I turned towards the Vunerian, my two hands overflowing with thick paper bags stuffed to the brim with useless knick-knacks, a hundred and one cufflinks, and just about as many more gourmet pastries that could give the Paris Intrasolar Baking House a run for its money.
“Yes, earthrealmer?” He craned his head back, one hand holding a thousand-layer puff pastry baked right on the stick, drizzled in what was boldly advertised as a syrup containing a hundred unique forms of ‘Crown-grade’ honey.
“We’re burning daylight here.” I chided, pointing at the rapidly setting… ‘sun’, and the growing darkness around us. “You’ve done nothing for the past thirty minutes but to delay us by going on your silly little sidequests around town.” I doubled down, only for the Vunerian to narrow his eyes, deploying a privacy screen in the process.
Following which, did he stop to kick me on the suit’s ‘ankles’.
“Have you learned nothing from our conversations, Cadet Emma Booker?” He tsked.
I opted not to respond.
“THEATRE, Cadet Emma Booker! THEATRE! The princess has made it clear has she not? That these… nightly outings, are more often than not, thinly-veiled excuses made for the sake of attaining a reprieve from the Academy?”
I cocked my head almost immediately at that response. “So… you’re just building up plausible deniability?”
“Correct, earthrealmer!” Ilunor beamed. “It is an open secret that most ‘night pass’ requests are mere fabricated contrivances. Thus, if anyone wishes to delve even slightly beneath the surface of our little outing, these sidequests as you call them, will serve as evidence for patterns of behavior in congruence with what is expected of such falsehoods. Otherwise, they will find the lack of any petty ulterior motives to be suspicious!”
“Prompting skepticism in our activities to grow, hinting to a more malicious ulterior motive to our outing. Perhaps even sparking more scrutiny on our actions on this night.” Thacea reluctantly corroborated, prompting Ilunor to beam bright with self assured victory.
“Only in the Nexus would acting with decency and honesty be met with more scrutiny than the bold-faced acceptance of open lies and deceits.” Thalmin commented with a growl, capping off our little impromptu shopping trip into town, just as we arrived at our destination.
=====
Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. Adventurer’s Guild Hall of Elaseer. Local Time: 1759 Hours.
Emma
I hadn’t at all expected to see Sym the moment I walked through those double doors.
If anything — and if Aunty Ran was to be believed — this was perhaps fate in the making.
However no sooner did we exchange our first words did a polite and cordial elf arrive to greet us.
A woman wearing what I could only describe as a fantasy renaissance take on ‘business formal’. With a long flowy skirt, coupled with a tunic with a puffy collar set beneath a beige-orange open-buttoned coat.
Though only about half of her receptionist vibes came through from her attire. The other half was all in the way she carried herself, as she smiled and addressed us in a way only a seasoned front desk receptionist could.
“Good evening, my lords and ladies.” She bowed deeply. “Might I be bold enough to assume that you are here for the Guild Master’s evening appointment?”
She kept things vague enough in order to not garner more attention than was necessary.
Yet specific enough that it was clear she was firmly in-the-know.
We definitely missed this lady on our first pass-through of the guild. I thought to myself.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Excellent.” The elf responded with that perpetually cordial smile. “I will relay your arrival to Master Piamon and, if you so wish, you may follow me to the upstairs reception area.”
However, before I gave my response, I quickly glanced over to Sym and the gang, my eyes narrowing at their… disheveled state.
“Erm, I don’t suppose that they also just arrived?”
This question prompted the elf to raise a brow. “Yes, my lady.” She replied. “Though if it is the matter of their physical well-being that is in question, then I wish to allay those concerns. I can assure you that all present are in sufficient condition to deliver a detailed report on the subject of your inquest.”
“Oh, erm. Actually I should’ve asked about that first.” I mumbled out, rubbing the back of my head in the process, before turning to the adventuring party. “Are you guys… alright?”
“Things are, as The Receptionist has pointed out, my lady.” Sym replied instantly, raising an arm to prevent the bat-like Thulvahn from responding first.
“Well… I’m assuming you’ve been through a lot, still.” I added, my eyes running up and down their disheveled, muddy, soot and ash covered forms. “I wouldn’t be opposed to you guys taking like half an hour to get ready for the meeting.”
This offer… clearly took both Sym and his troupe, along with the receptionist by surprise.
However, all were more than willing to accept this offer, as the man simply gave me a deep bow, before walking off and into some back corridors. Presumably to some in-house dorms.
“In any case, we will be more than happy to accommodate your wait up in the noble’s reception room, my lady.” The receptionist continued on seamlessly, as several vintage-looking baggage trolleys were quickly pushed our way.
My eyes, however, quickly locked onto the kids behind those trolleys as two of them were immediately identified by the EVI.
[N04 Garna. Trainee Adventurer. Desig: ‘Satyr’.]
[N05 Loris. Trainee Adventurer. Desig: ‘Kobold’.]
The pair looked… ragged and exhausted, sweat pouring down from the former’s forehead and onto his stained tunic, while the latter huffed and puffed up a storm. Their exhaustion probably stemmed from having to haul Sym’s gear and supplies prior to our arrival.
This disheveledness didn’t stop them from conforming to decorum though, as they both put on their best customer service faces. However, in spite of their best efforts, there was one thing they couldn’t hide.
…gurgle…
Their hunger welling within.
Which prompted me to take action.
No sooner after they finished loading the cart did I grab a few of Ilunor’s shopping bags, handing two to both the satyr and kobold, respectively.
“Here.” I offered with a smile. “You look and sound famished.”
The pair, in shock, turned to one another with wide eyes.
“Oh, erm. We…” Both of them stammered out, though it was Garna who finally won out in the end.
“Our dinner comes after the senior and junior level adventurers, my lady.” He explained sheepishly, pointing to the west wing’s dining hall that was beginning to fill up with the adventurers in question.
“Oh, so it’s like a seniority type thing?”
“Yes, my lady. The guild master eats first, then the senior adventures, and then so on and so forth.”
I cocked my head at that, as a disturbing thought cropped up as a result. “Please tell me you’re not given the leftovers from the dining hall…”
“Not here, my lady.” Loris responded this time around. “Though lesser halls have been known to practice that given their limited—”
The elf suddenly paused at the behest of the receptionist who’d silenced her with just one stern look.
“B-but you needn’t worry about our bellies, my lady. We’re well-fed here.” The kobold quickly reiterated, though that did nothing to sway my decision.
“Gotcha. But, hey, just consider this a treat then, alright?” I countered deftly. “That is, of course, if it’s allowed within guild rules?” I quickly turned to face the receptionist, who maintained a polite smile as she responded.
“It is well within the rules to provide gifts, if it pleases my lady.”
“Alright then.” I hid a barely contained grin. “Then here—” I reached over, grabbing yet another one of Ilunor’s many treat bags. “—take this as well. Share it amongst your friends and whatnot.”
A myriad of expressions formed following this.
With an incredulous one from Ilunor, a cordially neutral one from the receptionist, and two bright and beaming faces of the adventurers in training.
“Thank you, my lady!” They declared in-sync with radiant grins. The likes of which were infectious enough to make me feel all warm and bubbly inside.
“Oh, don’t thank me. Thank Lord Rularia here for his charity.” I gestured towards the Vunerian, who simply turned his snout up at the whole affair. “Credit and gold where it’s due, after all.”
=====
Nexus. The Crown Herald Town of Elaseer. Ambassadorial District. Adventurer’s Guild Hall of Elaseer. Guild Master’s Office. Local Time: 1835 Hours.
Emma
The slime’s room was just as I remembered it, save for the addition of a buffet table nestled haphazardly in one of its formerly empty corners.
It was apparently customary — and part of expectant decorum — to offer both adventurer and quest-giver alike dining options if a meeting were to take place during mealtime.
And it was clear that everyone was taking advantage of this, save for of course, me.
Both parties currently sat opposite of each other on the two couches in front of Piamon’s desk, with the coffee table in between it used as a sort of ‘middle ground’, stacked high with selections from the buffet table.
Though, much to Ilunor’s chagrin, there seemed to be a distinct lack of tableside service.
“Thank you all for your punctuality.” Piamon began, choosing to remain in his slime form this time around. “This meeting is to conclude the matter of the quest contract issued by one Cadet Emma Booker, to the adventuring party officially registered as Sym’s Troubleshooters. Given the quest’s unique nature, I will act as both arbitrator and primary witness to this conversation. So please, feel free to begin.” The man spoke politely, and in a surprisingly succinct manner for a Nexian noble.
“Thank you, Guild Master.” Sym bowed deeply from his side of the couch, his eyes landing on my visor. “To begin, I acknowledge that all terms issued within the contract have been fulfilled.” Sym started, prompting the guild master to form a slime tendril to begin jotting down notes on the contract in question. “Moreover, I would like to note that we managed to fulfil the contract’s obligations not only within the allotted time, but likewise earlier than demanded. This grants us the bonus of fifty gold per day per person in accordance with the additional terms laid out verbally.”
“Does the quest issuer wish to comment, argue, or clarify on any of these points before continuing?” Piamon chimed in.
“No, a deal’s a deal. The base pay and bonus are still on the table. Provided, of course, full details of the dragon’s location are shown to us.” I replied firmly.
“Understood.” Piamon nodded, gesturing for Sym to continue.
At which point, did he reach for a satchel, revealing a rolled up piece of paper, and several other artifacts I wasn’t at all expecting.
Some of which… were caked in both soot and dried-up blood.
The table in front of us was quickly cleared of food, though only after some back and forths with a frustrated Vunerian, who compromised on having just one tray of treats on the couch’s side table.
Following this, the piece of rolled-up parchment was promptly unfurled, taking up much of the table’s surface area. Though thankfully, this wouldn’t be a problem, as Piamon casually extended its length through a small display of magic.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 200% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
What appeared in front of us now was a completely blank, though admittedly large, piece of parchment.
Though all of this was quickly about to change.
“Let’s get straight to the point.” Sym began, taking a knife and casually pricking himself on his pinky finger. After drawing a small splotch of blood, he began smearing it at one of the parchment’s far ends, causing the whole thing to begin… stirring.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
“Do you happen to have the ink I sent you, Cadet Emma Booker?” Piamon abruptly asked, prompting me to nod as I grabbed one of the vials the slime had sent along with the note.
Following its uncorking, the man simply… poured the vial onto the paper directly.
However, instead of simply spilling everywhere and causing a Bim Bim-level mess, the parchment somehow acted like one of those hyper-absorbent fabrics, guzzling up every last drop of jet-black ink. It was only after the whole bottle had been emptied did we see the true magic at play here, as the formerly blank parchment started glowing with life.
Slowly, but surely, lines and map markers were drawn up. Grid coordinates criss-crossed the entirety of the parchment, followed by the sketchmarks of terrain, landmasses, and important natural geographical features such as forests, lakes, rivers, and mountains. The entire map had this… almost sketched aesthetic to it, as if it was actively being drawn by hand. It was only after the roads, towns, and other such important man-made features were filled in that the aesthetics became more refined. Sketchmarks were replaced by clean lines, and splotches of shaded-in greyscale were replaced by a rich sepia tone.
It all felt like we were watching one of those speedpaint montages.
Though it took a solid five minutes before the whole map was finally ‘complete’.
At which point, did it take me barely any time at all to realize what we were looking at.
This… was a map of the entirety of Transgracia and its surrounding neighbors.
A fact the EVI could corroborate, given Professor Articord’s timely introduction to the Nexus’ political map just yesterday.
=====
One Day Prior
Professor Articord’s Class
“To ensure we finish the class in a timely fashion, I will no longer be taking class participation. So listen carefully or you will surely be unable to complete this week’s homework.” The fox-like professor continued, as she pointed at both the blackboard and the growing magical ‘hologram’ in front of her.
“This, as all of you should already know, is the Nexus.”
The Nexus’ signature flat disc was both drawn behind the professor and projected in front of her.
The blackboard displayed the disc as seen from above. Whilst the hologram in front of her displayed it from its ‘side’, showing the various layers beneath the surface.
“Or at least, the physical extent of the Nexus. Everything within this mortal coil, everything we can touch, feel, see, hear, taste, and so on and so forth. Astral projection and the various layers that come with it are a matter for second-years.” She spoke casually, completely sidestepping that ‘minor’ detail as we moved on.
“Given that this is a history and politics class, I will refrain from making grand sweeping discussions on the nature of the Nexus. Rather, I will focus on providing you what you need to know about its political organization in the contemporary era.” The professor quickly pointed to the blackboard, the hologram quickly disappearing, in lieu of the rapidly moving chalk pieces that now divided the Nexus into four distinct zones; resembling something that would’ve been more fitting in a bar or a rec room.
A dartboard.
With a near-perfect circle at its very center and three concentric rings emanating from it, complete with what appeared to be finer divisions within the rings and circles. It was this latter detail that saved it from looking completely absurd. Instead, creating a sort of border gore that strategy gamers would probably blush at.
Though to be fair… given no scale was given thus far, it did remind me of how ‘simplified’ station maps and divisions could be.
Planet-bound minds struggling to comprehend the beauty and simplicity of Spacer Perfection. Was the meme I was immediately reminded of here…
“At the center of the civilized world, we have the Crownlands.” The professor quickly swung her scepter at the blackboard, coloring in the nearly perfect circle at the center of the disk. “Home to His Eternal Majesty, the Privy Council, the Royal Palace, the Royal Estates, the Royal Cities, His Eternal Majesty’s Royal Mandates, and the vast swaths of Royal Domains, Wards, and Provinces. The Crownlands was once the entirety of the known civilized world prior to the start of the Eternal Era.”
Both Ping and Qiv raised their hands at that, but were equally shot down by the professor.
“The topic of the Eternal Era and the war which preceded it will be discussed on a later date.”
This prompted both to lower their hands, as the professor moved on.
“Here, we have a region now known as the Midlands.” The professor paused, pulling out her scepter towards the first concentric ring drawn around the Crownlands. “This region, now home to long-established kingdoms and territories established following its incorporation into His Eternal Regime, was once shrouded under the malevolent influence of spiteful gods and ancient beings. Hence its former name, the Outerlands. Nowadays, however? You’d be hard-pressed to find any signs of this once-wretched past.”
The first concentric ring was promptly colored in after that explanation, before the professor moved on, her scepter now hovering over the second concentric ring that surrounded the Midlands.
“Though as time progressed and as the continued its unending growth, so too did the Midlands grow far beyond its original extent. This forced a reevaluation and a shift in administration, culminating in His Eternal Majesty’s brilliant Third Compromise — the establishment of a new Outlands.”
The territory in question was now promptly colored in, though interestingly, a small circle within it was highlighted as if to emphasize her next point.
“This is where you find such places as the Transgracian Academy, and its host kingdom, the eponymous Transgracia.”
A part of me was both relieved and intrigued to see exactly where we were on the Nexus’ ‘world map’. However, another part was equally frustrated by the lack of any clear map legends or scale markers.
Much to my chagrin, the trend would continue on unabated, her scepter moving back even further, highlighting an area of undulating borders beyond the Outlands.
“Finally, we have the unstable and still-forming regions known as the Farlands. There is little to say on this as it remains politically irrelevant. Thus, let us continue with the history of…”
=====
My eyes were locked onto the map of what I clearly recognized was the ‘middle left hand corner’ of the Nexus’ discworld. Right around the ‘nine-o-clock’ mark, smack dab in the middle of the ‘Outlands’ ring.
The location of both Transgracia, and the Academy.
Indeed, the map was much more detailed than Articord’s generalized depiction of the world, as it showed not just the Academy and the town of Elaseer, but also the entirety of the road networks that connected it to tens and hundreds more towns within this small chunk of an even greater, wider region.
I counted at least two-thousand towns and just under ten cities listed on this map.
A map of just the Kingdom of Transgracia. Not even taking into account its neighboring kingdoms, of which there were at least five which bordered it.
And when taking into account the relatively ‘middling’ size of the country in comparison to its peers along with Articord’s vague assertion of there being ‘tens of thousands more like it’ just in the western outlands alone… the scale here was starting to balloon to ridiculous extremes.
However, I didn’t allow my mind to wander too much this time around, as I honed in on Sym’s annotations, detailing the path he took to where the dragon was currently holed up at.
With a swift motion from what appeared to be a set of callipers, the man began drawing and annotating similarly magical brush strokes onto the dynamic map.
The whole thing… looked and felt like e-ink, similar to the ‘moving text’ the Academy used on its letters and announcements.
“The amethyst dragon’s lair is here.” Sym stated plainly, highlighting a forest way, way north-east from Elaseer. “The North Rythian Forests, a relatively young forest with little development near or around it, let alone through it.” The man sighed. “It took us about a day’s trekking on enchanted golem steeds and monotreaders to get there. Though it should be noted that we did use the transportium network to connect us to the closest town to the forests—” The man paused, highlighting a town a good ways away from Elaseer to the far north. “—the town of Telaseer. Without the transportium? It would’ve taken us a solid three to four days trek, perhaps even a week in rough conditions. However, from Telaseer, it should take you about a full day to get to the forest.”
“Aren’t the transportium networks only reserved for like, nobility or those with royal charters and warrants and whatnot?” I countered, recalling what the late Lord Lartia told me.
“Aye, though it perhaps is a bit less stringent than you may think. You don’t always need a Crown Warrant. Sometimes, just being a ‘regular old’ Nexian noble is fine and dandy for the odd jaunt or lazy stroll or what-have-you. Typically, most areas of the transportium are free reign for those of the Landed and Entrusted nobility, though there are certain areas that require explicit warrants from the Crown to access. For the most part however, the Outlands lack any of those sensitive areas.” The man explained, prompting me to cock my head in response.
“I’m assuming though, since you’re not a Landed or Entrusted noble, that you hold a warrant?”
“Aye, of sorts. We’re Crown-Registered adventurers, see?” Sym spoke, twirling his fingers for the dramatic Thulvahn to pull out what appeared to be a rolled up document with an official looking seal on it. Unfurling it, a picture-perfect portrait of all four adventures were presented front and center, complete with personal details such as age, race, appearance, as well as their adventurer rank and title.
All four of them even did a little dumb grin to match the grins present on their official registration, garnering a little snicker from my end.
“I apologize for not clarifying earlier, my lady.” The man dipped his head down in a show of apologetics. “But Crown-Registered adventurers hold something of a similar privilege, by virtue of our professions, in the free-rein use of transportiums, within reason.”
“No need to apologize, Sym. I was just curious.” I nodded, as the man promptly continued on from there.
We refocused our attention on the map, now honing in on the local area where the dragon was. “In any case, the dragon resides here.” The man pointed his callipers at the center of the forest. “You can’t see it from this official map, but beneath the dense canopy lies a large rocky hill with a cave nestled next to a small stream. There exists no roads or paths that lead towards it, so we charted our own, and got within three hundred or so paces from it.” More annotations were made on the map, first around the dragon’s cave, then towards a path highlighting the most navigable route from the closest dirt road. “It is about a thousand paces from the nearest dirt trail.” He clarified.
More annotations were drawn, now highlighting the aforementioned dirt trail, and a series of meandering dirt paths that zig-zagged their way through and then finally out of the forest in question.
“Getting to the forest itself is no issue. But navigating your way through the forest becomes a bit tricky.”
The dwarf took a moment to compose himself, his features shifting to something far less casual, or even professional, framing his next words as more of a warning than anything. “I must be clear about something, my lady. I say this with no judgement nor doubt over your capacity or character, but as a man who wishes to fulfil my duties to the best of my abilities.” He began, as he gestured towards one of the clauses in the contract. “As this is a scouting mission, it is within my services to inform you not only of the location of this beast, but the dangers it and the surrounding environment poses.”
He took another deep breath. “Considering your armor, I doubt I need to warn you of the dangers posed by the spores of the forest’s mushrooms or any other environmental danger besides the threat of quicksand and mud pits. Of which this forest has none, considering its rather temperate climate.” He gestured towards the map, highlighting some areas annotated with rather toony drawings of mushrooms. “However, it is the dragon I wish to warn you of. Because the manner in which we secured the dragon’s location so quickly was through the unwitting sacrifices of others that came before us.”
The man finally grabbed hold of the scorched equipment from earlier, laying it out on the table, along with a surprisingly pristine cylindrical tube.
Without wasting time, the dwarf popped the cap open to reveal the contents within.
“A royal warrant.” Ilunor observed in between sips of tea. “One issued for the capture of the dragon, no doubt?”
“Aye, my lord.” The man nodded, bowing deeply towards the deluxe kobold. “We discovered a literal trail of failed missions. Men-at-arms, arriving by the caravan. Yet none of them made it past the threshold of the dirt roads. It was only because we decided to leave our conveyances that we were able to slip past the dragon’s sight.”
“And even so, it wasn’t long before it saw us and chased us outta there.” Kintor quickly added, a shiver of fear coloring her voice.
“Hence the scorch marks and such, no doubt?” I offered, garnering a nod from all four.
“We were only able to make it out of there because of the dragon’s… mercy.” Sym postulated. “I assume it is not indiscriminate in its hostilities. For it attacked caravans and formations of men at arms with great prejudice, but not us. I… may be well into the realm of conjecture here, but I’m assuming that it chose to spare us, as it saw us as mere intruders rather than those that would do it harm.”
This answer seemed to garner the raise of several brows, with Ilunor especially turning his nose up at the man.
“This actually begs a really important question.” I began. “You’re talking as if the dragon is intelligent and smart, but you still refer to it as an ‘it.’ Now, you’ll have to excuse my ignorance here, but are Nexian dragons actually sapient? Or are they just ‘animals’?”
“They’re sentient.” Ilunor answered bluntly. “Not sapient.” He concluded. “Animals, not people.”
“If I may, my lord, ancient legends say that a select few were, at one point, sapient.” Piamon offered, the greater slime clearly being the only one from the adventurer’s side of things that could stand up to him, by virtue of his own noble heritage.
“Those were ancient legends.” Ilunor shot back. “And even so, those were, as you said yourself — a select few. More specifically, the Great Dragons of the Vunerian Mountains who ruled over the kobolds and typical dragons of old.” The Vunerian sighed, taking a swig of tea in between his words. “Even then, their numbers were mere pittances. Moreover, this rare breed of thinking dragons were the size of entire strongholds. This amethyst dragon clearly does not fit any of these descriptors.” The deluxe kobold concluded.
I turned to both Thacea and Thalmin at that answer, the former of which nodded in acknowledgement.
“Aye…” Sym quickly added. “The beast we met was certainly quite an intelligent creature, but not sapient. Not at all.” The man breathed in deeply, slowly sliding the warrant back into its case. “Forgive me for overstepping my bounds once again, my lady, but I must ask… what exactly do you need the dragon’s location for?” His voice darkened.
“Well…”
“We need one of its crystals.” Ilunor answered audaciously. “For a school class project, and as a goal for our Class Sovereign gambit.”
That answer… was actually decent.
Though it was clear Thalmin had some issue with it, owing to a sharp glance he cast towards Ilunor.
In a rare disconnect in our consensus’ though, I wasn’t at all annoyed by this particular save.
If anything… I was impressed.
Craning my eyeballs over to Thacea, it was clear she was just as impressed as I was at Ilunor’s quick thinking.
Because despite it being a bit… blunt, it was a logical next step off of Thalmin’s original cover-story. That being, this whole thing was ‘a personal academic matter’.
“I am, if nothing, a frank and earnest man.” He quickly added, forcing me to hold in a chuckle.
Nevertheless, as believable as that answer may be, the group in front of us… was still nothing short of stunned by that answer.
“I’d assumed something of the sort.” Sym sighed dourly. “And is it only one of its crystals that you seek, or the dragon’s head as a trophy?” He practically mumbled out.
“Just its crystal.” I answered.
“I wouldn’t say I’m relieved to hear that, my lady. But at the very least, it takes the danger from near-assured death, down to extremely hazardous and life-threatening.” The man paused, leveling his eyes towards me with severe intent.
“I’m assuming it’s possible then? As in, the procurement of a dragon’s crystals without actually killing it or getting into a full on life or death fight?” I asked, prompting the man to pinch the bridge of his nose, drawing out a long sigh in the process.
“Aye, there are ways.” The man began dourly. “But I must ask again, are you certain about such a foolish venture?”
I maintained my gaze — fruitless as that might’ve been — as I delivered my next few words without a glimmer of hesitation. “Yes. Now tell me, what options do I have?”
Comments
CTsquad501st
So far, im loving this. I am curious if there are ways to do things peacefully. One of my favorite animals is the humble corvid. Love their intelligence and ability to remember faces, good and bad. Perhaps the dragon was thankful for the human who inadvertently freed it. Not that I have any idea how it would know she is the one who did that.
CTsquad501st
“Though as time progressed and as the continued its unending growth Another typo, as the [what] continued it's growth
CTsquad501st
“Have you learned nothing from our conversations, Cadet Emma Booker?” He tsked. There is a typo, tsked instead of asked
Roger44477
I love the huge lore dumps, but this does keep the flow more consistent and also adds more value to Emma getting to see the more detailed map.
