Blink of an Eye Chapter 1
This is a story long over due, one of those stories you have in the back of your head but never committed to paper.
This is the story of a little Dragon and a teen Barbarian whose lives are intertwined though magic. A stubborn muscle headed youth who slashes first then asks questions later is paired with a dragon whose animal instincts have been replaced completely by scholarly pursuits. The adventure begins, but will they survive it?
You ever have one of those days where nothing goes your way? I mean seriously of all people to lose the chair to at the council, Hawthorn Ragefire. I should just bang my head against the wall and end it all right now. Then, get this, then my thesis on Adranite economics up in the air, literally, blown away. I was pulling it out of my portfolio to hand to co-counsel Mastav, bam an assassin breeze takes it away. To top it all off I'm gonging to be late for my lunch date with Sharlanti.
The Little dragon scurried about with great fervor. The rhythmic clacking of his claws on the stone cobble road came to an abrupt halt when he pushed open the door to one of his most favorite restraunts, The Dragon Rend.
Sharlanti waved the exahasperated Adranite over. Her tail swayed with disinterest as he regaled the day's events to her over a steaming pot of rancor stew. He was totally oblivious to the fact that she buried her soft sighs in the flagon of red Rapture wine. All he ever really noticed was her coy smile and succulent giggle. She tolerated him. That would best way to describe their friendship. He was a tool to her, a stepping stone to things much grander: Fourth in line to the throne. Number doesn't really hold much sway here unless you're in the top four. In the achropolious when the time comes it's all about character, status and the public view. Impress the Council and you're the new King. Sharlanti was without a doubt fulfilling his status aspect by being his girlfriend. Her family was a powerhouse among the nobles and scholars alike and the fact that his uncle was currently one of the most powerful sages in the Dragon Guard was another nice plum in his hat. Where he fell wanting was in character...it was seriously flawed. He was weak with only a drive for scholarly knowledge. The fact that he noticed Sharlanti at all simply amazed her. She was struggling to mold him although her efforts seemed for not, but this was her best chance to get to the throne while sating her ambition and boredom at the same time. Something had to change if this was ever going to work. But what she pondered to herself ignoring his idol chatter all the while.
Toral breathed heavily having exhausted all his strength in the battle. The power of his youth had waned against the many who where more skilled than him. He'd flailed about wildly with his blade, slaying two marauders and wounding a third, but there were 6 more and he was cornered in the small cave. The more experienced men just sat back mocking and waited knowing he'd tire soon enough and now he was about to die. All Toral wanted to do was protect his home, family and friends. Find some adventure along the way and the fame that came with it. Most youth don't expect to die at the beginning of their adventures. Many realize their mortality in time or at great cost which leads them to weigh their action in the future, but unlike them, Toral it seemed, was not going to be among them.
"I'll kill you all!" he roared, "One at a time or all at once!"
A one eyed marauder chided him and stepped forward, being so bold and brash as to sheath his own saber to fight him bear handed. Toral, lunged forward snarling as a wild leopard. The old man side stepped him with ease and he carrened face first into wet sand. The crowd erupted with great elation at the "mighty warriors" prowess. He leapt up and swiped his blade in a fluid motion towards his superior and met only air once again. But by as he swung a third time the ebony, man now seeming a giant to the exhausted youth, caught his sword arm and back handed him. His grip faltered as he spiraled into the wall. The man followed with several kidney punches and finished with a knee bash to his face. Toral hit the floor winded as the crowd roared to the victors triumph. He kicked dirt into his face cursing him for the trouble he'd caused them. Toral gritted his teeth mingling the taste of sand and blood in his mouth. He dug deep within himself to find the strength to rise, but the failed effort was greeted with a swift kick to his ribs that turned him onto his back where more dirt was kicked into his face. All the youth could do was grunt and groan at his enemy. The Marauder unsheathed his sword preparing for the killing blow. "Any last words whelp?" he asked. And then he sneezed.