Snippet #2551917

Torven walked along the rocky pathways of his kingdom of Valsung. He sighed as he saw some of the "Dragon-Masters" as they call themselves dragging cages of very angry Ambush Drakes. Torven hated to see this particular sight on his early morning walks, however it couldn't be helped he supposed shaking his head as he walked around the loud raging shouts of the dragons.
Torven, hated when dragons became upset. Because unlike some people, Torven understood the ancient tongues the dragons spoke. He could hear them. He could understand them, all of them. Of course he understood the ones who spoke English or other universal dialects, but Torven could understand ancient dragon tongues. His mother had taught him from a young ge how to understand and how to speak to the dragons.

As he walked by the Drakes they shouted at him, gnashing their teeth, clawing at the cage attempting to break free and kill him for ignoring their cries for help, because they knew he could hear them.
"Foolish dwarf! You can hear me! Help us, we will be grateful for eternity! Please, they will kill us. Murder our kin, all of our children, our legacy!" The growling Drakes would yell and plead, yes Torven knew very well the Dragon-Masters killed the Drakes for sport. Yes he also felt this was unfair, and unethical, however the Drakes killed our kin just as much as we kill theirs. In Torven's mind this made us all even.

Torven walked, slowly, out of Valsung, into the wilds right beyond the barrier-walls. Praise the divines I'm away from the Drake-displays. . . Torven thought relieved. He hoped to see the Faerie dragons in the glen within the woods, he loved watching their intricate mating rituals early in the morning when the most of them were out.