Snippet #2466575

Valar Karackson was confused, and no wonder, it had been quite the eventful day. He had fully expected to die, yet he lived, more over he had found people who claimed dragons as friends, and been healed by one no less. There was only one thing to do, so he went up to the front of the ship to sit astride the bowsprit with his legs dangling over the water that foamed past the bow.

Clearly, he thought, there existed a dynamic between people and dragons that was not solely defined by who ate who. These relationships could clearly be beneficial and productive. More importantly he thought he could have a companion and together they would be unstoppable.

He decided to fully investigate these strange circumstances and dymanics. The little girl had been friendly, he would ask her.

He saw her reading and came and sat down 5 feet away from her, keeping a bit of distance between himself and the dragon. It took a lot of gesturing and miming but his command of the language was already getting better. "You and he" he pointed at her then the dragon, "You friends? How?"

He listened as she told her tale and then after pondering spoke. "North there are no friend dragons. They are wild and fierce ruled by instinct. And the Bandit clans that have their own are worse. They always try to go south, to richer lands unfortunately for us we are in their way. There is much fighting. Look at my armour, my knives." He motioned to his dragon scale armour and his Talon knives. Then he sat as if lost in thought