A Hatchling's Journey

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---Out-of-Character Introduction---

I have only been playing Istaria for a bit over a month now, starting with a free Human character for a few days, just to get the hang of the game and to see if I liked it; it didn't take long to make the decision to purchase a "non-plot" subscription (I'll almost certainly upgrade once I'm capable of Lair Shaping!). Because of this, I am every bit as much a "hatchling" as is my character, Morinare Blackclaw, and the "two of us" are discovering the world around us at the same time.

Mori, as he's being called, is on the Order shard, as I enjoy role-playing. As with many other players I've encountered so far, rather than setting up specific times or conditions for role-playing, I prefer to *always* be in role-playing mode. That is, when I'm in-game, I *am* Morinare, and I respond to events and conversations the way (I think) a young, slightly impertinent dragon would respond. So, if you happen to see me in-game, you needn't ask if I'd like to role-play...I already am!

---In Character---

With a contented sigh, Morinare Blackclaw settled down into the cool, slightly damp grass and felt his muscles slowly relax; the young dragon's head lowered until it was resting on the rose-quartz gauntlets he wore on his fore-claws. It had been a busy day, and it felt good to simply pause and allow the world to go on without him for a few minutes.

Gazing out over Dalimond Bay, Morinare half-listened to the Dragon voices in his head; several adults and an ancient were discussing the Ancient Rite of Passage and, while the youngster knew the subject would one day be important to him, the discussion was totally incomprehensible, so, with a soft grunt, he tuned them out. He wasn't at all sure *how* he heard their voices, but, then, there was so much that Morinare wasn't sure about. He *did* know that if he did this, he'd be listening to other younglings from various races, dragon and [I]naka-duskael[I] alike, as they asked questions of the elders who may or may not be listening.

It was in that very "channel" (as Morinare thought of it) that a new voice had popped up, earlier that morning. A Gnome named Awdz had offered a general greeting, to which Morinare had responded. Immediately discerning that Morinare was a hatchling, the gnome had begun several minutes of teasing, but, in such a gentle, friendly manner that the young dragon couldn't help but join in. With a grunt of pleasure, Morinare knew that Awdz was yet another of the elders who would happily offer help, advice or suggestions; in the gnome's case, though, Morinare was also quite sure that the advice would come with a fair share of teasing.

A contemplative mood settled over the dark-grey hatchling, as he thought of all that had transpired over the frenetic several weeks he'd been "alive." Morinare accepted the fact that he was one of "The Gifted," but, only because he'd had that fact drummed into his brain. He didn't feel particularly gifted, although he'd been given absolute proof in an encounter with several undead; that first dying and re-birth had been unsettling and confusing, but Morinare was slowly beginning to understand his "role" in the world at large.

Once again, Morinare tried to cast his memory back to the time *before* he'd been Gifted...once again, he was frustrated by the mists and clouds that filled his mind, allowing nothing more than glimpses...quick scenes that just as quickly dissipated. A very large, pure white "presence"....another dragon? Morinare wasn't sure, but, even so, felt a warm, protective embrace from the almost spectral memory. A larger, darker presence...more stern, but, yet...the same warm embrace. Mother and Father...he knew it without knowing how he knew it. Fleeting glimpses of other dragons...other places. Places he knew, without knowing. Places he'd been, without a memory of being there. The first time he'd entered the city of Chiconis, having made that harrowing run along the road, he'd nearly fallen on his face when a memory washed over him as if he'd run into a stone wall: he'd been there...he *knew* where he was, and knew that there was a shrine just up the hill...there was a sudden feeling of being home.

Had he lived in Chiconis before whatever had befallen him...bringing him back to Istaria as a Gifted? If so, were his parents still there? Or, had they....had whatever had befallen him...had they been there? Were they also Gifted, and somewhere in Istaria now? Or....was he alone, with only wisps of memory to warm his heart?

Morinare knew that he had had two missions in his new life. First, while he didn't understand all of what was expected of him as a Gifted, the hatchling instinctively understood that he had a duty to the world of Istaria, and that this duty now meant that he needed to train and learn all he could from dragon and naka-duskael alike. But, his second mission was to do all he could to retrieve his past. Were his parents or other members of his family still alive? If so, where were they? Would they remember him (was he even the same as he'd been...then?)?

A low rumble suddenly issued from the hatchling's belly, and Morinare realized he was famished. Just as suddenly, he noticed the sheep grazing in a field below him...surely, the farmer wouldn't miss one or two....or, a half-dozen...would he?

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

A long but exceedingly satisfying day, Morinare decided, his draconic features shifting into what passed for a smile in his race - an expression that most naka-duskael would *not* find appealing, as it showed entirely too many teeth for their comfort!

Beginning the day in Chiconis, the young dragon had been asked by Clerash, the Town Marshall, to eliminate some Ruxus' which had been plaguing nearby farms; knowing that the Trophy Hunter, Baltorros, often had similar requests, Morinare had gone to talk to the dragon, and discovered that, yes, Baltorros would be willing to pay if Morinare brought 5 trophies back.

Quickly gating to Bristugo, Morinare scampered out of that small town and along the road towards the Holcomb Farmstead, remembering that Normand Holcomb had been complaining about the large, green, toothsome creatures. With his newly-earned powers, Morinare found the Ruxux to be a relatively easy prey, particularly since they appeared oblivious to anything he did to any of their number...he was careful, still, to avoid targeting a Ruxus which was too close to another.

The dark-grey hatchling reported back to Clerash and Baltorros, delivering his trophies, and received a very nice little bounty for his efforts. More importantly, Morinare was then informed by his Adventure Trainer that he'd risen to the 30th Level in that School.

"You should now journey forth to talk with Vladtmordt," the Trainer advised. "He can be found southwest of the Floating Island."

Floating Island....the name was familiar to the hatchling...ah, yes! That lone portal, in the northern part of Tazoon! Within minutes, Morinare found himself on the Floating Island, and quickly discovered that it WAS a Floating Island! With increasing awe mixed with not a little fear, the hatchling scampered around the edge of this impossible bit of geography, looking down at what appeared to be [U]very[U] distant ground below.

"....southwest of the Floating Island," he'd been told...standing on the southwestern edge, Morinare could just make out a patch of green below him....it seemed an awfully long way. Well, if he missed, he could always recall and try again.

Stepping back from the ledge, Morinare took a deep breath and steeled himself. Then, with a huge surge from his powerful hind legs, he launched himself forward, running at full-speed towards the precipice and outward....into the air...holding his wings as still as possible as he felt the air rush past him...By the Gods, what a feeling!

Morinare let out a roar of pure elation....it might not be flying, but, it was as close as the hatchling could get and it was almost physical pleasure.

He wanted to do loop-de-loops....barrel rolls...wanted to flap his wings and hurtle through the air, far above the ground....

Uhhh....the ground....it was rapidly approaching! Instinctively, Morinare flared his wings to slow his descent...not enough! He managed one, slightly panicky "EEP!" before his chest slammed into the ground and he rolled, [I]uphill[I] for nearly 30 yards before coming to rest in a bush.

Morinare's eyes had been tightly closed throughout his less-than-graceful landing, and, he kept them shut now, as he did a mental inventory of various body-parts...one eye popped open and peered around...please, oh, please, don't let there be anyone around...

The hatchling let out a disgusted grunt as he realized that he was upside-down in the bush; with almost as little grace as his landing had shown, Morinare clambered out of the bush, wincing as several bruises made themselves known.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Morinare saw the Floating Island, far above him in the sky, and realized just how far he'd glided...errrr...fallen.

With another glance at his map, Morinare set off, easily finding the lair of the Ancient Vladtmordt. After his recent adventures, the requirements for his Replica Scale of the Prime seemed to be almost anticlimatic, and Morinare easily accomplished them...he was still very gratified when the Ancient handed him the new, iron chest scale, and couldn't wait to equip it.

Now three-fifths of the way to his personal goal of achieving the 50th Level in both the Adventure and Crafting Schools, Morinare knew that, somewhere, somehow, his parents would be proud.

If only he could share this happiness with them....if only....

[LungTien Temeraire]

Nice story there
This is nicely written, and I like the part when the ground approaches fast towards Morinare.

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Response---

Thanks, LungTien...and, I really did appreciate your comments in-game, yesterday, as well!

As I mentioned in my first posting, Morinare and I are both learning as we go, and while I'd had lovely, long glides before this (from off the top of the tower on the Summoner's Island, for example), this one was different, since there seemed to be a bottomless abyss underneath me... And, with the mistiness of the air, the ground really *did* suddenly approach...a little artistic license to embellish the story, of course, but, I really could see Mori going tail-over-head up that hill...

Nice story there
This is nicely written, and I like the part when the ground approaches fast towards Morinare.

[Cynny]

((I really, REALLY love your story Mori! .____.; You've got some amazing writing skills.
Keep it up! 8D

~Cey))

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Comments---

Just a "thank you" to those who have commented here and in-game; it's very nice of you to take the time to do so, and, is greatly appreciated!

------

"Ah, Morinare...so good to see you again," Khemarius rumbled with what sounded like genuine affection. "Do recline yourself and tell me what you've been doing since last we met."

Young Morinare Blackclaw did as the Ancient requested, although he'd learned to be at least a little suspicious when any of his trainers were in such a jovial, friendly mood: it usually meant a particularly nasty Quest was in the offing.

"Replica Scale of the Prime, eh?," the Ancient dragon murmured, gazing down at the hatchling. "Nicely done, Young One. Tell me, though...has the Drain Bolt been helpful to you? Have you learned its uses and shortcomings?"

"Ancient One, yes," Morinare began respectfully. "I use it in nearly every combat situation."

"In what way?" the elder asked, cocking his massive head.

"Master, my usual tactic is to use Dragon's Reach first, to bring a target closer. Then, I cast one or even two Drain Bolts and an Improved Prime Bolt; I can usually do this before my opponent has closed to melee range."

"Good....excellent," Khemarius nodded. "Do go on."

"Master, while the Drain Bolt does repeat faster than the Prime Bolt, it doesn't....ahhhh...."

"Do as much damage as you'd like?" Khemarius finished with a rumbling laugh.

"Well....yes, Master."

"Indeed, Young One, you are correct. And, this is a deficiency that I am working on. Do you feel up to doing a little field-work for me?"

Here it comes, Morinare groaned inwardly. "Of course, Master."

Khemarius laughed outright. "What does the old fool want me to do now, eh, Youngling?"

As the dark-grey hatchling began to stammer, Khemarius laughed even louder. "Worry not, Youngling, I shan't get you killed. However..." suddenly, every vestige of humor left the Ancient dragon's face. "This *will* test you, Morinare. Know you of the Dead Pool?"

Morinare felt his heart sink. "Yes, Noble Khemarius."

"I see that you do, indeed. I need information, Morinare, about the Drain Bolt's effectiveness against the Undead. The Dead Pool is the refuge for many of this ilk. 20 or so of these abominations should be sufficient, and, please, Morinare, ensure that you use your Drain Bolt a number of times, so that we may have enough information to proceed."

"Yes, Master," Morinare bowed respectfully, preparing to leave the Ancient's lair.

"Youngling!"

Morinare turned back, to find the Ancient gazing at him with a benevolent expression. "Yes, Master?"

"Do be careful...."

Recalling back to Chiconis, Morinare ran through the scanty information he had about the Dead Pool; he'd only been there once, accompanied by Eartha, the Mistress of his Guild. Even with her help, it had been a harrowing experience, nearly costing him his life, as the Adult and hatchling had been swarmed by numerous undead.

There must be a better way, Morinare thought, looking at a map of the area. Hmmmm...perhaps...it appears that I can approach from the West, the young dragon thought, tracing a route from Vagrant's Respite to the Dead Pool. Now...how to get to Vagrant's Respite....

Fortunately, the day before, Morinare had been hunting Slate Golems, and had attuned himself to the Gate at Slate Crest; from there, it was a quick overland scramble to Vagrant's Respite. Ensuring that he'd cast every "buff" spell he owned, Morinare then began the last leg of this journey, loping along towards the Dead Pool.

Just as he topped the final ridge, his keen eyes saw an unhealthy, greenish glow, and Morinare planted both fore-claws into the ground, coming to a sudden halt.

"What the....?"

Slowly, he inched up the ridge, peering over it at an unusual rock formation...the greenish-glow was coming from....slate? Indeed it was, and, there was quite a bit of it.

At least the slate wasn't looking particularly violent, Morinare thought with a snort, giving the odd rocks a wide berth nonetheless.

Suddenly, in the hazy air, a huge gateway appeared.

"Well...I seem to have found the front door," Morinare whispered, edging closer to the opening.

"Ah...and, there is the welcoming committee," the hatchling chuckled, ruefully, as he noted several well-armed Skeletons, moving up and down the road in front of the gate.

"Might as well get to work," he decided, picking out one of the Elite Cabal Guards.

While the skeleton guards traveled in packs of 2 or 3, they eventually did split up; by carefully following from a distance, Morinare was able to pick off individual targets, pulling them closer and finishing them off. A short rest to heal and recharge his spells, and, Morinare repeated this process, over and over again, quite happy that the undead seemed to be oblivious to his presence, directly across the road from their Gate.

Finally, he'd finished off the twentieth and quickly recalled back to Chiconis. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, Morinare gave a cursory glance at the booty he'd looted from the dead skeletons.

"Whoa..."

A *very* nice haul, the youngster saw, looking things over more carefully. Several items triggered his Dragon Hoard response, and they quickly disappeared. There were several formula that he could use, as well, and the hatchling quickly scribed them into his spellbook. And, finally, a few items that would bring a few coppers from the pawnbroker.

Now, back to Khemarius. Much to his pleasure, Morinare found that the Ancient was genuinely pleased at his return, and, even more pleased with the information the hatchling was able to provide.

"Yes....yes.....oh, very good!"

"Take this, now, Morinare," Khemarius rumbled. "I believe you'll find it a bit stronger and of more use to you. And, now, I want you to travel back to Chiconis, and speak to Bentaras; we need to improve your Dragon's Reach, and he is just the dragon to help you with this."

As Morinare prepared to leave the lair, Khemarius motioned him to wait.

"Youngling, you've given me a great deal of assistance, and I believe I shall have something more for you in a few weeks. But...if you wish...I would enjoy it if you could...well, if you would like to spend a little more time, humoring an old dragon, I would like to have you visit..."

Touched by the Ancient dragon's affection, Morinare bowed deeply.

"I shall, Master Khemarius," the hatchling promised.

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

A passer-by would have thought it an odd place for a statue of a dragon hatchling, perched on a low hill overlooking Dalimond Bay; had the passer-by approached closer, he would have been even more startled to see that the dark-grey figure was breathing...and, with the mood "statue" Morinare Blackclaw was in, the passer-by would have been lucky not to have been flamed-broiled on the spot.

The life of a newly-Gifted was never an easy one; much was expected of them, often with little or no preparation. For a newly-Gifted dragon, it was both better and worse. With their well-organized training system, Dragon society provided the newly-Gifted with much more experience and information than any of the "naka-duskael"; on the other hand, that very system placed an amazing amount of pressure on the young hatchlings, with ever more difficult quests and challenges.

All absolutely necessary, but, stressful.

Over the past few days, young Morinare had helped several of his Guild-Mates with various tasks; he'd been given, and completed, a number of new Quests by several different trainers; and, he'd spent what had seemed like eons mindlessly mining slate slabs and turning them first into bricks and then into scales.

On the plus side, he'd acquired a pair of very nice granite scales from the consigner in New Trismus that would be of great help in future Spellcrafting. And, while discussing battle-claws with several Elders, one had presented Morinare with a brand-new, Battle-Forged, Amethyst-tipped claw; just one example, from a long line, of generosity that young Morinare had experienced.

On mornings like this, the hatchling instinctively knew that he needs must keep those "good" moments in mind.

The day before had begun triumphantly for the young dragon. Returning to the icy peaks above Scorpion Island, Morinare had slaughtered the remaining Snow Ogres he'd been tasked to kill by one of his trainers, and received his reward.

Almost immediately, another trainer gave him the task of defeating some Large and Tremendous Ruxus. The Large were dispatched quickly, and, having received directions from a more experienced Guild-Mate, Morinare had set off to find the Tremendous Ruxus.

He'd taken a wrong turn, though, and scampering up a hill in the still twilight, Morinare came face-to-face with a stone tower...The Cleric's Tower, that unknown part of his mind supplied. As he gazed up at the tower in curiosity, a sudden wave of almost unbearable sorrow swept over the young dragon, driving him back several stumbling steps and onto the ground.

A gasp of pain and grief and loss was torn from the dragon's throat, slowly building until it was a low howl of sheer despair. A dark veil descended over Morinare's vision, as a dim, flickering memory played out in his mind. Dragons...pink-skinned naka-duskael...skeletons...flashes of magic energies, blasting back and forth...a tower, shrouded in mists...then, blackness...blackness....nothing....nothing, save pain...searing, unbearable pain, both mental and physical....

The memory - if that's what it was - began to fade, and Morinare slowly became aware of his surroundings. Relaxing his battle-tensed muscles and trying to control his rapid breathing, the young hatchling stared up again at the stone tower...no...it wasn't the same tower, he knew...but....something about it...a memory of....what?

As best he could, Morinare had tried to shake off the memory, and the horrific effect it had had on him; returning to his directions, he'd found the Tremendous Ruxus and easily defeated the required number. But, instead of going off to rest, as he should have, Morinare accepted yet another task and had gone off in search of Forest Gruoks.

Easily finding a small herd of the pig-like animals, Morinare began to stalk them, noting a pack of Brownbacks nearby, but, they seemed to be far enough away, and were apparently taking no notice of him. He selected a Gruok and let loose a blast of Dragon's Reach, followed by two powerful Prime Bolts. The Gruok, badly injured but still very much alive, charged at the young dragon and Morinare prepared himself for a close-in melee battle.

A sudden, searing pain in his back...he felt his right-side being slashed open and whirled around to find himself surrounded by Brownbacks. He tried to break free just as the mortally wounded Grouk gave one final charge, knocking the hatchling on his side....horrendous pain....blackness....

Morinare found himself at the Shrine in Bristugo and slowly realized that he'd just died...it wasn't his first death and re-birth, as a Gifted, but, coming on the heels of his experience at the Cleric's Tower, this one hit him very hard.

The physical wounds had, of course, been healed at his re-birth; the mental and emotional ones, however, were very much a part of him. Almost without seeing, Morinare had staggered away from the town, a weight on his heart that was almost impossible to bear.

What was the tower in his memory? What horrific event had happened there? And, what did it all have to do with him?

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Comment---
Apologies to anyone who's been reading along for the time between entries; real-life (ewww!) has interfered a bit, but, in truth, I've just been so busy trying to level Mori that I haven't taken the time to make an entry here!

---Back to our Story---
Stepping through the Portal, Morinare found himself in the familiar, somehow comforting terrain of New Trismus; even as his Rite of Passage drew closer, the young, pewter-grey hatchling knew he'd always return to New Trismus, much as many adults and even Ancients did.

He started down the path towards the village, then, with a self-deprecating grin, turned around and headed towards the spot in the ridge where he knew he could climb. Scampering up the rock-face, Morinare knew that it was a bit silly...but, as he reached the edge of the ridge and launched himself into the air, Morinare felt the thrill that always swept over him when he was gliding, even if it was something as mundane as landing on a roof overlooking the New Trismus Shrine.

Settling himself comfortably onto the warm thatching, Morinare surveyed the scene below and before him: several naka-duskael scampering here and there; quite a few hatchlings he'd never seen; an adult dragon quietly conversing with a *very* small hatchling; and, a simply humongous Ancient, perched precariously on the tip of the New Trismus Shrine's spire.

"That has to hurt!" the youngling said to himself; suddenly horrified, he realized he'd spoken out loud.

The right eyelid slowly rose, revealing the lustrous black orb; the eye fixed on Morinare for a moment. Then, the Ancient's face crinkled into a smile.

"Oh, it does," came the low, rumbling murmur. "But, doesn't it just look amazingly ridiculous?"

The question was asked with such good humor that Morinare burst out laughing, and the Ancient joined with a basso-profundo chuckle.

"It is good to see you laugh, youngling," the Ancient observed. "When you plopped down on that roof, you appeared to have the weight of the world on you."

A slight pause, as the Ancient gazed thoughtfully over at the hatchling.

"Approaching your Rites, are you not, young Morinare?"

"I am, Elder," Morinare nodded his head. "Slowly."

"Too slowly for yourself, or," the Ancient tilted his massive head, "too slowly for others?"

Once again, Morinare was amazed at the perception of the Ancients; every single time he'd conversed with one, it was almost as if they could read his very thoughts.

"Some have....questioned...why I'm not already an Adult," the hatchling softly said.

"Yes...but, you have set yourself a goal, have you not, youngling?"

There it was again; Morinare knew he'd never met this Ancient, and, yet...

"Elder, yes, I have: I wish the earn the final Tempered Scale before I begin my Rites."

"And, so you shall," nodded the Ancient. "And, I shall be beside you as you accomplish your Rites and Ascend to Adulthood."

"I'd be honored by your assistance and attendance, Elder."

"You're even happier to have another 'large body' between you and some of the creatures you'll be facing, I'll warrant," said with a large, toothy grin, causing Morinare to laugh again.

"I never disagree with an Ancient," Morinare nodded, trying to appear humble, but drawing a snort from the Elder Dragon.

"Hatchlings...." the Ancient shook his head slowly, amusement clearly showing on his face.

"I do believe Khemarius has been looking for you, youngling," the Ancient commented, smiling even wider at the groan from the hatchling.

"Yes, Elder," Morinare agreed, with grim resignation.

Of all his trainers, Khemarius was the most long-winded, and, after the latest visit, the most demanding. Morinare had been tasked with providing his trainer with copies of three naka-duskael spells, and, the hatchling had run himself ragged trying to find them. He'd found the formula for one, "Spirit Bolt III," in the inventory of the Consigner in Kirasanct, but, at 150 silver pieces, it was well beyond the hatchling's budget; the other two, "Ethereal Paroxysm III" and "Ethereal Leech III" had so far eluded him.

With a bow of respect towards the Ancient Dragon, Morinare hopped from the roof and galloped towards the New Trismus Portal, wondering which would be better (or, worse): returning to his search for those 3 blasted spells, or, going back to Trandalar to face more Ice Pygmies.

"Ugh...."

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Comment and Introduction---
The following bit of whimsy was suggested by a line of incredibly silly - but, hugely funny - chat that has taken place in Dragon channel over the last several days. None of the names have been changed to protect the innocent, as I couldn't find anyone who fit that description. So, to our story....

The Ballad of the Big Blue Chicken

"Ah, Morinare, you're just the hatchling I was looking for," came the call as the pewter-gray hatchling scampered towards the Vault in Kion.

Quickly coming to a halt, Morinare felt that familiar sinking sensation in his gut; those words were *never* the precursor to something fun.

"Glit'sita, Kaiserao Gerix [Greetings, Guide/Trainer Gerix]," Morinare respectfully replied, gazing up at the Elder Dragon perched atop the building.

"'sita, Morinare," Gerix smiled down at the hatchling. "Yes, just the one we were looking for."

Morinare tried not to let his feelings show...this was getting worse.

"Oh, don't look so stricken, youngling," Gerix chuckled. "You've demonstrated yourself quite capable of what we would like you to do."

Yup...definitely getting worse.

"I am prepared to take on any Quest given me, Kaiserao Gerix," Morinare dutifully responded, getting a snort from Gerix.

"You have your lines down pat," the elder Dragon smiled. "That is good. Very well. Do you recall assisting Farmer Idamon, a while back...the naka-duskael who was having problems with his chickens?"

A flurry of feathers, beaks and claws filled Morinare's memory. *Chickens* Humongous chickens that were seemingly everywhere, squawking, clucking, and, most importantly, attacking a much younger dragon from every side.

"Yes, Kaiserao, I remember the naka and his....chickens."

A rumbling laugh floated down from Gerix. "I see that you do," the elder dragon smiled. "Well, we have a similar problem, near Aughendell, and, given your previous experience, we believe you are the right dragon for the job. I want you to seek out Rathios; he will give you the information you need for this job."

Bowing respectfully, Morinare received a nod of dismissal from Gerix, and scampered off.

Rathios? He wasn't one of the Kaiserao, Morinare thought. Another Gifted, and, one whom Morinare had interacted with on numerous occasions. In fact, the elder dragon was someone the hatchling looked up; always approachable, with a wicked sense of humor, Rathios was an elder Morinare felt most comfortable with...but, that he would have a "job" for the hatchling was unusual.

Casting his thoughts out to his kindred, Morinare "looked" for the elder dragon. {Rathios?}

{Ah, at'eo Morinare. Temaga nieo oiorcai?}[Hello, Morinare, how are you today?] came the instant response.

{Ieo elieo g'rei, a'kei nieo,} Morinare responded, telling the Elder that he was well and thanking him.

For several moments, the younger and elder dragons exchanged pleasantries, until, {So, what can I do for you, youngling?}

{Gerix told me to seek you out}

{Oh-ho.....yes, you *are* just the right dragon! Are you busy at the moment?}

{No, Rathios, I am at your command,} Morinare replied, receiving a chuckle in response.

{Very well, meet us near the gates in Aughendell,} Rathios instructed. {We'll be there in a few minutes.}

We? Morinare wondered who else was involved in this, as he galloped towards the Kion portal.

The portal deposited him outside the Dwarven city, and Morinare walked towards the large, wooden gates; only a guard and the Trophy Hunter were nearby, so Morinare settled down to wait.

Somewhat familiar with the Dwarven city, Morinare recalled all he knew of the area. Blighted regions close by...and, of course, the Mines, rich with ore and golems. Previous adventures had shown the hatchling that he was a match for the golems, and this thought made him believe he'd soon be going back to those mines.

The Aughendell landing-pad began to glow, and soon, two large dragons appeared: Rathios and....Atlanna? The Elder Dragoness was also one Morinare was familiar with, and his smile was genuine as the two large dragons approached.

"Prompt, as always," Rathios rumbled with a smile. "Hello, Morinare!"

Bowing respectfully, Morinare smiled wider. "Glit'sita, Rathios...Atlanna."

"So, what did Gerix tell you?" Rathios asked, settling down next to the much smaller hatchling; Atlanna settled facing them.

"Something about chickens, like I fought near Sslanis," the young dragon replied with a slight shrug.

"hmmm...yes...well...not exactly," Rathios began. "The dwarves tell me that their mines are being plagued by a very large chicken...a *very* large chicken. And, they've asked my help in ridding the mines of this vile, dangerous creature. Unfortunately, I am in the midst of something else, but, I immediately thought of you, given your past experience with the birds on Lesser Aradoth, as well as the work you did against the golem, here in the mines of Aughendell."

"One chicken?" Morinare showed his surprise.

"Yes, just one," the elder nodded. "But, don't be fooled. This is one VERY big chicken."

"One very big, *blue* chicken," Atlanna intoned, with what almost looked like a fleeting smile.

"Blue??"

Rathios shot a look at Atlanna before turning once again to Morinare. "Yes, a....well....a gigantic, blue chicken. So gigantic, in fact, that I've asked Atlanna to stand ready to assist, should you need it."

"I don't believe you will, though," the dragoness smiled.

"No, probably not," Rathios agreed. "Still, I want you here, and, Morinare...if you need help, you *are* to ask for it, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Elder, I understand," the young dragon replied, wondering why, if Atlanna had the time to simply wait on the sidelines, in case she was needed, Rathios hadn't just asked her to take care of this....blue chicken??

"Very well, off you go, then, Morinare. The bird has been most often reported deep within the mines, in the general vicinity of the granite. You are familiar with that area?"

"Yes, Rathios, I've been there."

"Excellent. Take care, then, and let me know when you've finished. And, let Atlanna know if you need her help!"

With a quick bow to the two Elders, Morinare scampered down the road from Aughendell, heading towards the entrance to the Mines. From past experience, and Rathios' description, Morinare knew he'd not face any danger for quite a while, but, as he ran along, he began to prepare himself for the upcoming combat.

For nearly an hour, Morinare explored the canyons that made up the Mines, encountering a few Golem, and, quickly dispatching them. Then, as he rounded a corner, he heard a faint "squawk" from somewhere above him, instantly followed by a brilliant flash of light, as a nearby rock-face was vaporized by a bolt from the sky.

Morinare's training and highly developed reactions took over, and the hatchling was almost instantly several yards away, scanning the tops of the ridges around him. Nothing...not a thing to be seen.

Warily, keeping his eyes focused on the distant ridges above him, Morinare called up a mental image of the Mines, looking for a quick way up. Ah, there...

Heading towards the spot, Morinare suddenly heard another squawk, this time from in front of him; his foreclaws dug into the ground just as another blast obliterated part of the wall to his right. The bird had to be just around that next bend, the hatchling knew.

"Right...let's have you," he muttered, girding himself for combat.

The hatchling rounded the corner, rearing up to send his own bolt of primal energies into the bird...but....nothing?

The canyon stretched for several hundred yards, straight and true...the bird *couldn't* have disappeared...the canyon walls were much too high for it to have gone that way...chickens can't fly....can they?

Another blast, this one from *behind* the hatchling.

"MEEEEEEEEEP!!!!"

The young dragon whirled around to face his adversary....who wasn't there.

Under his confusion, Morinare was a bit angry, as well. No one had mentioned that the bird could....disappear?

Another squawk, again from behind...it almost sounded like...a laugh?

"Think it's all fun and games, huh?" the determined hatchling launched himself at full speed down the canyon, ignoring the blast that melted an entire section of wall above him, and rounding a corner just in time to see a humongous, blue....bird?...rising up from the canyon, and disappearing over the ridge.

{Atlanna? This thing can FLY!}

{Chickens can't fly,} came the reply from the Dragoness.

{Giant Blue Chickens sure as...heck...can! It just flew up from the canyon I'm in...I saw it!}

{hmmmm...okay, Mori, I'll be there in a moment.}

Nervously scanning the ridge above him, Morinare heard another squawk, off to his right; must be right about...there...the hatchling determined from his map. Quickly, he began to head in that direction, knowing that Atlanna would see where he was.

Once again, the hatchling was greeted with another blast of energy, and, through the smoke, he saw the giant creature rising up and over the ridge, just as Atlanna dropped from the sky next to him.

"It just flew up there!" Morinare shouted, pointing to the ridge.

With a lunge upward, Atlanna took to the sky; Morinare watched as the dragoness circled the area....and, then, flew back, settling down next to the hatchling.

"Nothing there, Mori....chickens cannot fly."

"But...."

"Look...this canyon dead-ends just around that corner. It can't get to you there. You wait, just around the bend, and I'll see if I can flush it to you, from up above."

Trained from re-birth to follow the instructions of his elders, Morinare didn't question these odd instructions, but, scampered to the corner, seeing that the canyon did, indeed, come to a dead end about 40 yards further. But, despite Atlanna's disbelief, the hatchie knew what he'd seen, and kept a wary eye on the ridge above him.

"Ahhh....there it is," from Atlanna, followed almost immediately by a squawk from around the corner.

Morinare launched himself around the corner, facing down the canyon, a blast of Dragon's Reach ready to fire at.....nothing?

Behind him....a loud squawk...a sudden flurry of blue feathers...flashes of talons...leathery wings....wooden sticks...a chicken face with dragon teeth....wait.....what??

A familiar, rumbling laugh....Morinare's confused vision cleared, and he saw....Rathios??

"All right, youngling," came the deep voice. "You've vanquished the Giant Blue Chicken."

Atlanna settled down next to Rathios, a benign yet mischievous smile on her face.

"But....what....?"

"Always investigate the Quests you're given, Morinare," the huge, blue dragon began. "Whether they come from one of your trainers, or, from someone else, always find out as much as you can before you begin," Rathios continued.

"And, don't always trust the information you're given," Atlanna added. "Especially from big, blue dragons."

Rathios snorted. "Especially from big, blue dragons with an evil sense of humor," he laughed.

"Yeeeesh....you could have just TOLD me all of this," the hatchling grumbled.

"Ah, but, that wouldn't have been as much fun!" Rathios chuckled, waving one of the long sticks, festooned with bright blue feathers, in Morinare's face.

"Big blue chicken." Morinare couldn't help but laugh as Rathios let out another squawk, waving his feathered sticks around.

"While we're here," Atlanna began, a serious expression coming over her, "you should go talk to the Town Manager. There's a lake nearby that has some sort of problem."

"Let me guess....a giant blue fish?"

"Giant bluegill," Rathios nodded, his forelegs making swimming motions in the air, while his mouth opened and closed.

"I'm not gonna believe another word EITHER of you tells me," the hatchie exclaimed, shaking his head.

He couldn't help but laugh, though, as Rathios continued his fish impression.

The laughter felt good, and the young hatchling felt himself relaxing; at least for a moment, his confusion about his own past, anxiety over the rapidly approaching Rite of Passage...all of this faded away, as the young dragon shared a moment of silliness and laughter with his older companions.

[LungTien Temeraire]

(*looks for more)

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

(*LungTien Temeraire is promised more... )

(*looks for more)

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Comment---
Not to sound like a broken record, but, I simply must thank all of you who have offered comments and praise, both here and in-game; it really does mean a lot!

---To Our Story---

Head comfortably laying on his forepaws, soaking up the warmth of the noon-day sun, Morinare Blackclaw semi-dozed, letting the conversations between eilerten and naka-duskael (dragons and bipeds) wash over him. To one side of the main square of New Trismus, an Ancient dragon was instructing a pair of fidgeting hatchlings in the intricacies of defense; it was obvious to the older hatchling that the words were going in one ear-hole and out the other. They'll learn the hard way, Morinare snorted to himself.

[Some may penetrate their young brains, aorban,] came a gentle admonishment. Morinare cast a quick glance at the Ancient and saw a flicker of amusement in the huge eye.

[Your pardon, Elder,] the pewter-gray hatchling began, but, his apology was quickly brushed aside.

[D'na, aorban, you are most likely correct...yet, one must try. Now, return to your rest; I deem it is needed.]

Unlike some hatchies who almost bristled at the term, Morinare found an odd comfort in the word, aorban (little one)...a feeling of protection and safety. Not for very much longer, though; Morinare was rapidly approaching the day when he'd begin his Rite of Passage, after which he'd ascend as an Adult.

Quick movements brought the hatchling out of his reverie, and his eyes followed the small figure as it darted around the dragons lounging in the Plaza, going from workshop to the shelter where Millecent and Geoff had their businesses.

Immediately recognizing the naka-duskael as Awdz, Morinare's gaze focused on the Gnome as she chatted with the Consigner, Millicent. A moment later, Awdz scampered through the obstacle course of dragon bodies and disappeared into the workshop. A cacophony of hammer-banging, tortured metallic screeches and generalized mechanical mayhem issued through the closed doors before Awdz reappeared, flashing a beaming smile of greeting towards the hatchling as she darted past.

Cargo-disks, most likely, Morinare thought, watching in idle bemusement as the Gnome scampered back and forth.

The door to the workshop opened again, and Awdz stepped out, making a great show of looking around, surreptitiously. With slow, deliberate, and highly exaggerated steps, the Gnome crept forward, holding something in her hands...she was heading directly towards him, Morinare realized.

Awdz crouched behind an Ancient dragon's right forepaw, slowly raising her head and peering about in a comical manner, completely ignoring the fact that every dragon eye was on her. Once again moving in a hilarious parody of stealth, Awdz crept closer to Morinare, who eyed the Gnome with bemused suspicion.

Morinare was very familiar with the female Gnome, and knew that a great and gentle heart beat within the small body...but...what *was* she doing?

Lifting his head and craning his neck around, Morinare saw that Awdz was directly behind him now, peering around the Shrine. The Gnome had to be aware that complete silence had fallen over the Plaza, and that every eye was on her, as she began to creep, ever so slowly, towards the tip of Morinare's tail.

With a great show of stealth, Awdz pulled her cloak over her body, obscuring the tail-tip under the folds of cloth; the hatchling felt a gentle tugging, but, overwhelmed with curiosity, Morinare remained as still as a statue.

A sudden flurry of motion as Awdz scampered back to the workshop, every eye on her. Morinare blinked, looking at the doorway, and saw a pair of amused Gnomish eyes peering around the door.

Lifting his tail, Morinare twisted his body to see....a bell?

Giving the tip a gentle flick, the Plaza rang with the soft, gentle peal from the silvered bell, followed by amused snorts from the assembled Adults and Ancients.

Morinare was delighted...another flick of the tail brought forth more soft tinkling sounds. Hopping to his feet, Morinare began to slowly walk around the Plaza, tail held high; with each step, there came a soft, "ding-a-ling."

Almost despite their gravitas, the Elder Dragons couldn't help but be amused by the hatchling's antics, as Morinare began a slow scamper around the Plaze, accompanied by the ringing bell. Snorts and muffled laughter, humorously resigned sighs, and an almost despairing "oh, no," echoed across the Plaza.

Fixing the grinning Awdz with a mock baleful glare, an Ancient rumbled, "Gnome, of ALL your nefarious ways and grievous sins, THIS may be the most egregious!"

Shaking his tail in ringing endorsement, Morinare piped up, "Ain't it great?"

"My work here is done!" Awdz exclaimed, as she darted past the laughing dragons. "But, I can make a bigger bell, if you'd like one!"

[awdz]

<*laughs* i love the way you turned the story around; nicely spun!!>

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

(Ah, I'm glad you liked it, Awdz...saw your message mentioning something about tying a bell to a dragon's tail, and the story just sprang forth....)

<*laughs* i love the way you turned the story around; nicely spun!!>

[A'Sasha]

Hehehe! Loving the stories Mor!!!

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Comments----
Although Morinare ascended to Adulthood yesterday (yaaaay!! ), "A Hatchling's Journey" will continue, both because it's easier than starting a new thread and because Mori is still very much a "hatchie" in many respects...just a much larger one!

On a personal note, my sincere thanks to all who helped Morinare (and, me!) achieve his goals...and, thanks to those who were present at his Ascension!

---On to Our Story---

For at least the tenth time, Morinare Blackclaw looked over the mystical items arrayed before him on the sandy ground...for at least the twentieth time, the pewter-gray hatchling went over the final incantation Semeneth and Hethsa had given him for the culmination of the Rite of Passage.

The hatchling took a deep breath, and let it out in a nervous, shuddering exhalation. Then, with a quick look around at the array of naka-duskael, hatchlings, Adults and Ancients who had gathered to witness his ascension, Morinare began the incantation.

Instantly, the young dragon was surrounded by a brilliant sphere of light...and, heat. Neither was uncomfortable, but, only just. The sphere expanded, and, suddenly, Morinare felt the oddest sensation...almost a "tugging" feeling, as if he were being pulled in two directions at once. At first, his instinct was to fight against this sensation, but, Morinare quickly realized that it was the incantation...he was literally "moving" into the new body being created for him by the spell.

An instant later, the "tug" turned into what felt like physical movement, and, then....falling....total disorientation, as Morinare suddenly found himself "not here"....but, not yet "there," either. Time ceased to exist...the moment stretched to infinity but lasted less than a fraction of a second....a formless void that yet contained him...Morinare felt himself stretching, expanding and panic swelled within him as he thought he'd keep stretching until there was nothing...

[K'ieo aoretao...d'na aord'eilet. Nieo merare oi ateir kaiset (My child...do not fear. You have ascended to the next Path)] came a voice...but, it was so much more than a voice...a presence...an *old* presence...older than time itself...and, Morinare felt himself wrapped in this presence...comforted by it..

An instant - or, an eon? - later, the brilliant sphere began to shrink, and Morinare slowly became aware of his surroundings once again...and, aware that he was seeing those surroundings from a different vantage point.

Roars and yells of congratulations suddenly swept over him as the last of the brilliant sphere faded away, and Morinare realized that he'd been successful: he was an Adult!!

With his own roar of victory, Morinare instinctively leapt into the air, his newly massive body rising easily over the New Trismus beach. Just as quickly, the other dragons rose alongside Morinare, in the ritual celebratory flight that follows Ascension.

Morinare was ecstatic, twisting his body this way and that, rolling and turning in the air, his newly-deep voice roaring and bellowing his joy.

Noticing that the other dragons were now drifting back to the beach, Morinare let himself glide towards the sandy expanse, trying to judge his speed and height above the beach. There was a sudden flurry of movement below, as the assembled dragons and naka desperately tried to get out of the way.

Morinare's forepaws hit first, and, dug into the sand slightly...just enough, that his hindquarters began to rise, threatening to continue up and over. The young adult tried to compensate by lifting his head to the sky once again; the small figure of a terrified, motionless gnome passed directly under Morinare's muzzle, and the dragon's talons barely missed taking the gnome's head off.

Now, Morinare's tail and hind legs dug into the sand, and the gray dragon was unable to compensate...his chest slammed down onto the beach and the young adult skidded over the sand, his head coming to rest between the huge paws of an Ancient dragon.

"Do you live?" LungTien's deep rumble inquired.

Morinare opened one clenched eye, and saw the Ancient smiling down at him. He closed the eye again, with a sigh.

"The landings may need a bit of work," LungTien continued, good-natured humor clear in his voice.

'Yes, Elder," Morinare managed to stammer, wondering how he could gracefully extricate himself from this position. Fortunately, the Ancient solved the problem, moving off to converse with another dragon.

Fireworks suddenly lit the skies, as the dragons began to celebrate the newest Adult in their tight-knit community.

And, for the first time in a very long time, Morinare felt at peace...

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

---OOC Commentary---
Apologies for the lack of entries, but, I've been busy, both in and out of the game...still busy, but, since it's early on a Tuesday morning, and Istaria is down for its weekly maintenance, seems like a good time to stuff something in here!

---On to Our Story---

In the weeks since his ascension to Adulthood, Morinare Blackclaw had seen his world change in ways expected and unexpected.

Of course, the most wonderful change was the new ability to fly. Ohhhh, to FLY!!! The sheer joy of soaring high above the world, the rush of air against his face as he watched the ground passing beneath him. Hardly a day went by without Morinare letting out a bellow of happiness while flying, usually followed by a chuckle as he saw various creatures below him scattering in terror.

While he'd adapted to his new ability quite well (some would say too well, since Morinare would occasionally fly *across a room*), he'd been less successful in adapting to the other major change accompanying Adulthood: his increased size.

The pewter-gray dragon's brain was still convinced that the body was hatchling-size, and insisted on trying to fit the larger body into places it had gone before...with humorous, and, occasionally, disastrous results. (Well, that naka jeweler in Bristugo should have had a sturdier tent...or, she should have come outside to greet him, instead of standing back inside like she had when Morinare was still a hatchie...he'd entered the brightly-colored canvas enclosure just as he had done many times, only to discover that he was suddenly draped in what looked like a brightly-colored canvas cape....boy, was SHE mad!)

But, perhaps the oddest change was in how others now saw him. He'd been dozing in the warm afternoon sun near the New Trismus shrine, sleepily listening to the chatter around him, when a voice had penetrated his consciousness.

"Excuse me, Elder?"

Several moments passed. "Uhmmm.....Elder? Are you awake?"

Morinare opened his left eye, to see a small, purple hatchling a few feet away, gazing at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry, Elder," the hatchling began, "but, I had a question, and there's no one else around to ask."

Elder? The young Adult dragon opened his other eye and peered around...who was the hatchling talking to, Morinare wondered, then suddenly realized HE was the elder.

But....but...I'm still a hatchie, Morinare's brain protested.

Indeed, despite all the various changes, both major and minor, Morinare *did* still feel like a hatchling....albeit, a much larger version.

Other, less visible, changes had taken place, as well; most of these weren't directly caused by his Ascension, but, simply had crystallized as Morinare thought through them. No doubt, the biggest of these was the young dragon's view of the Living Races, and Dragon-kind's place within them.

Try as he might, Morinare could not reconcile, in his own mind, the basic tenet - nay, article of faith - held dear by all Dragons, whether they be Helian or Lunus: that Dragons were absolutely, categorically superior to all other Races, and had an inherent right to assume the Leadership of those Races.

Of course, Morinare accepted the fact that Dragons *were* the First Race of sentient beings on Istaria; no one, not even the naka-duskael scholars, disputed this fact. But, did this fact mean that Dragons were, by "right," the leaders of the Living Races? Morinare could not see that. Were Dragons completely and totally superior to every other Race? Were they wiser and more powerful?

From what Morinare had seen in his admittedly short life, the answers were 'no' and 'no.' Oh, there was no doubt in Morinare's mind that the Council WAS wise...but, were they wiser?

As to superiority in combat, well, Morinare had been aided by several Ancients, during his recent Rite of Passage, and they had seemed almost god-like in their powers. On the other hand, since completing his Rites, Morinare had also had the chance to have a very well-trained and experienced naka fighter aiding him, and that biped had shown powers every bit as impressive as had the Ancients.

So, where was this superiority? Morinare had not seen it, and this was causing internal conflict. He'd been trained - indoctrinated, to be honest - in the belief that he was a member of the superior race, and by inherent rights the race that should lead the Living Races, both against the Withered Aegis and beyond. But, his own observations belied this training. From what he could see, all of the Living Races were, generally speaking, equal. Certainly, some did specific things better than others, but, when you came right down to it, none were "superior" or "inferior" to any other.

Even for a Helian, these thoughts bordered on subversive or heretical, Morinare realized. But, there they were, and they would not go away.

Morinare drifted off to a troubled sleep, as his mind continued to wrestle with these issues....

[LungTien Temeraire]

(Nice story again, but I didn't understand a point... the hatchling starts talking with Morinare for a question, Morinare thinks about Lunus, Helian and bipeds and then he falls asleep? doesn't he reply to the hatchling?)

[Morinare_Blackclaw]

He did reply, but, I was more using the hatchling as a way to get the story to a certain point than actually as a major part of the story...Mori will always answer questions from anyone, whether they be hatchling or adult, dragon or naka. :-D

[LungTien Temeraire]

(*nods "Maybe should you in these cases, just say shortly what happens, to let ones know Morinare replied and helped the hatchling, before falling asleep. It is just my though, though )