Fly with the Riders

It takes you only a moment to reach a decision- you’ve got to go with them. Had you made only the safest choices so far in life, you’d still be back home at the farm watering vegetables today, and instead you’re living in this fantastic city, conversing with heroes you knew only from stories. When else are you going to have the opportunity to say you faced actual pirates with the Windbourne Riders, and you trust Malory’s instincts as a leader and the group’s experience besides. You turn to face the lion with a confident nod.

“I’m in, I want to fly with you,” you answer resolutely as the lion clasps his gloved paws together in approval, Prexa smiling as Amerst scoffs and Lizelle gives a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Excellent!” he raises a toast with his coffee, “We shall make preparations and set off after breakfast then. Eat up, my friends, for we will all need our strength.”

Though you won’t be doing any of the actual fighting, you enjoy your meal regardless as you try to assuage your nervous excitement, thinking back to all the previous stories you can recall of other groups of Riders engaged in conflicts with pirates and bandits. The Riders chuckle and corroborate some of the details while you continue eating, Malory laughing as he waves a paw dismissively as you’re describing a caravan ambush by a trio of bandits on horseback, saying they’ve dealt with five or more without the aid of their dragons even. Lizelle appears more thoughtful, explaining how she would have approached the camp by nightfall so as to draw less attention, and taken the leader of the bandits by surprise once the city guard had the place surrounded. Amerst shakes his head with a small snicker at another legend- there’s not a chance the Rider in question could have been so inexperienced as to stumble onto cursed ground without realizing it, if he was in fact magically adept as his subsequent actions indicated, and besides, his dragon would have sensed the danger long before their arrival. Today’s encounter, the lion regrets to inform you as he pats your shoulder with a gloved paw and a wink, is unlikely to live up to some of the more fantastic stories you’ve heard, but will undoubtedly be quite exciting the experience for you.

On that subject, the group’s answers are more straightforward, you discover as you leave the tavern once breakfast is concluded, your initial excitement dying down to be replaced by curiosity at the actual plan for the ****. You’ll fly out with Malory and Prexa, take the pirates by surprise, disable their ship, ensure the criminals are all restrained, and tug her back to port to be impounded and repaired for proper use. The pirates themselves, Lizelle informs you as you journey back to the warehouse, where Noctrus and Kelsyre are affixing their saddles while the knights check their armor and hone their weapons, will be exiled to a prison on the northern island of Kilfruct, a rather stark and unseasonable rocky moor where they will plenty of time to consider their misbehavior. As you watch Malory speaking with a raven who heads to the back of one of the warehouses to return with a crossbow for the lion, Lizelle polishing her short sword with a whetstone after she’s changed her gloves for a black pair embossed with an elaborate silver pattern, you wonder why the dragons aren’t adorning any armor of their own, to which Amerst sighs and explains that such heavy equipment would only hinder them in flight, and that their natural capabilities with magic will provide more than ample defenses. The lion checks the crossbow as he sends Prexa back to the stables to retrieve some equipment, the dragon returning sometime later with a quiver of bolts, a few small flasks, and a large saddle built to accommodate two riders of larger anthro size; while you might be able to squeeze into the saddle with Malory, there might be some danger of falling off, and Prexa laughs when you ask if it will be okay to carry the both of you, saying she’s carried two Riders many times before in the saddle, snickering as she pats her fat belly and also adds within her stomach as well. While she wouldn’t mind showing you more of her insides sometime than just her vagina, she chuckles as she plods forward to give you a massive lick from your chin to your hair with a huff, she is too full from breakfast for now and besides you would miss out on all the excitement.

You can only speculate based on what you know from the legends as to what some of the items might be used for, but by the time Prexa has returned, the lion seems keen to depart. He addresses a beaver overseeing the warehouses one last time, and you gather from the conversation that the handful of dragons currently on duty will work in shifts of two to cover inspection of any arriving goods bound for the warehouses while they are away, giving one last reminder to the supervisor not to raise any alarm should anything suspicious be detected, but to send the guard- a group of half-asleep looking hyenas- to detain the suspicious parties for questioning. You were somewhat hoping you might see Drelfrumm at this hour, but outside of Scarvy making the morning rounds among the handful of ships at anchor and having a bit of chatter with the vixen and the boar you met briefly yesterday, none of Drelf’s trio of workers appear to have arrived for duty yet- it is still only late morning, after all. You turn as the lion stands before you and calls everyone to attention, running through the basics of the plan one last time.

“Riders, make ready for departure!” Malory commands as he mounts Prexa’s saddle, reaching down a paw to help you onto your position in the back, Lizelle mounting Kelsyre as Amerst leaps deftly onto Noctrus’ back, the black dragon having barely squatted so he could board, “On my mark, by Amphelor’s shield and our Spirits, we go forth!”

Invoking the protection of the ancestors along with the god of battle and the shepherd of heroes noble and true, the lion signals with glove extended before you feel the upward pressure as Prexa pushes off the ground with her powerful hind legs, the whoosh of her mighty wings beating the air as she gains the proper altitude before spreading her wings to glide out over the sea. Noctrus and Kelsyre take position on either side as you note that the Riders keep their balance merely by leaning forward and holding onto the sides of their dragons’ necks without the need for reins, the beasts intuitively able to make slight adjustments to keep the ride stable for their companions, instinct and years of trust guiding their movements as you recall your shaky experience with Drelf when you first arrived in town. By the Spirits, was that really a mere two days ago, and now, flying out into uncertain danger and adventure alongside the Riders, by even your wildest dreams, who could’ve imagined it even standing at those towering gates, much less with the sight of this city growing ever closer from the back of that rickety caravan over the week prior? In fairness, like the rest of your experience in Igrandranmyr, this isn’t entirely a romantic adventure- you shiver as the cold coming from the sea below catches you across the breeze, resigned that the view is endless dark blue water and cloudy sky, with Malroy’s rear nearly in your face as you hold onto his waist for support; his cloak and armor prevent things from feeling vulgar, but being a larger anthro, if he were to start farting… well, the rushing wind would probably just blow it away regardless so it wouldn’t be that bad. You lean your head to the side as the air currents buffet through your hair, squinting out at the tiny outcropping of rock that is your destination, seeming to grow no closer as you wait.

At first, you try to engage in conversation with the knights, but it becomes clear as even Malory turns and shakes his head at you that with the whipping winds and the speed at which you’re flying, you can barely hear a word. You almost want to ask if there’s a spell to compensate for these conditions, as magic seems quite limitless based on your limited experience here and all the tales that rush back to your mind as the wind rushes across your body, but the Riders don’t seem inclined to converse, focused with their thoughts undoubtedly toward the upcoming confrontation. Again you’re left to wonder- how much danger are you in now, really, and for their armor and magic, was this the best decision, will you rejoin the Spiritfold today and await the next life in grim reflection of your foolhardiness? The journey lasts over an hour, as these thoughts dance around your brain like devils with sharp spears, your heroes swooping out of the skies to drive them away in visions of clashing steel and bursts of magic as the stories of your youth spring into your mind’s eye, scenes of heroic triumph and grand adventures replaying in tenuous contrast to the uncertainty that having this time to reflect upon only worsens. You watch the dragons making slight adjustments as they read the currents in the air and slight shifts of the wind around them, the steep crag now able to be observed as you hold up your hand and look out over the waters, imagining Prexa igniting the mainmast with her fiery breath, Noctrus clouding the decks with a fog of dark smoke, and Kelsyre sweeping the brutish army of rats and scarred hulking men over the rails with a rush of wind from a magical flap of his great wings.

When the outcropping is large enough that your hand no longer blocks it completely when raised, Malory signals to the other riders and the dragons slow their glide, flapping their wings to hover in place. The lion motions to Lizelle, indicating that she’ll swoop in with Kelsyre and sweep the deck, while Noctrus will disable the cannons along with Amerst, sweeping from port to starboard side, and meanwhile he will have Prexa set fire to the sails and keep an eye out for the captain- once he’s captured, Malory reasons, the remainder of their crew may readily surrender. You glide silently with the others towards the rocky cliffs, like jagged knives rising up out of the rolling waters, the waves crashing along the sheer stone as your heart crashes against your chest so loudly you worry you might give away your position as the lion withdraws the crossbow from its side holster. As Prexa glides with the others below the stone overhang it is there, the pirate ship at anchor hiding as expected, and much larger and more fearful than any of the other craft you’ve seen in port, three massive cannons jutting from her port side and two more peering out of cannon holes at her side. Your heart skips a beat as Malory raises his gloved paw with a quick sharp glance towards the other riders at either side of him, and lowering it without a word, gives the signal to attack, and all falls into chaos.

You fly alongside as Kelsyre lines himself up with his two target, a pair of rats leaned up against the deck rail, watching as the green dragon descends into a dive, wings glowing white with powerful magic as he plunges towards the two pirates who scarcely have time to begin turning around to identify the rushing object, paws on the hilts of their cutlasses before Kelsyre breaks with both wings, his flap as he does so sending a massive gale **** wave across the deck that sends both pirates over the deck and plummeting down into the seas below. But their startled cries instantly raise the alarm, and as Prexa’s fire breath ignites the mainmast and spreads shroudwards, you flinch at the sound of gunfire, turning to see multiple muskets aimed in your direction before they discharge, cutting off the angry, repeated shouts of, “It’s the Riders! Curses! Take them down!” But there is instead a shimmer and a crackling sound as the balls impact and fall flat against the magical barrier raised by Prexa, as you recall Lizelle’s earlier comment about the dragons not needing armor, and you hear Malory’s signature laugh, triumphant in the ongoing clamor, as he turns and gives you a wink before aiming his crossbow, the bolt flying outwards, overhead of the assembled defending pirates to catch near the foremast, and then, exploding in a great whoosh of flames as the sail ignites to the lion’s declaration, “That should take the wind out of her sails, eh?” You shake your head in disbelief, beginning to feel more excitement than fear from the unfolding battle, Amerst swooping back up over the starboard rail as a shark’s musket ball and a powder charge thrown by a man whose body is made of scars and muscle impact harmlessly against the barrier, both tiger and dragon roaring as Noctrus rushes forward with a teleportation spell as the keg explodes terribly on its downward plunge, reappearing to subdue three rats armed with daggers with a single swipe of his huge claw before they can react, as Amerst freezes the ignition on a shark’s pistol with a practiced toss of one of the blue crystalline flasks, the gun thudding uselessly on the deck as the pirate shouts in surprise. You think you actually see a bit of a smirk as Amerst thrusts both his paws forward and there’s a brief flash of light blue light before a group of pirates rushing to douse the burning foremast are encased in ice, turning at a cry from Lizelle as she makes the same gesture with her black gloves, the silver patterns glowing and cracking with a light purple energy before there is the sound of a terrific thunderclap and a chain of forking lighting leaps in the blink of an eye between a group of pirates, who fall to the deck stunned as pistols and cutlasses thud and clang against the wood.

“The fight is ours, my friends! Show them the power of a just heart!” Malory roars amid the reports of pistols and muskets, the shouts of enraged pirates as their futile attacks only serve to incite their anger, the lion firing another bolt from his crossbow as a pirate charges with a long pike, attempting to thrust upward and attack Prexa, but the bolt glows green and bursts into a tangle of vines, ensnaring the would-be attacker like a bolo as he and his weapon fall. The lion turns to you with a grin as he fits another bolt in his crossbow, “I could probably fashion you a nice set of magical armor if you’d like, lad. Go grab a cutlass and-”

Malory is cut off as he turns to discharge the shot point blank at a snarling woman who has magically leapt into the air and overtop of the barrier, smashing downwards at the knight’s unarmored head with a belaying pin driven through with sharp spikes, but who now falls to the deck in a tangle of vines instead.

You decide to remain a spectator to this battle, especially as the element of surprise has long worn off and some of the crew are getting cleverer in their tactics, holding on tight as Prexa swerves to avoid several fireballs launched by a trio of the magically adept, musket balls zipping just shy of her right wing and tail as the gunmen try to shoot around the barrier, flinching as the shot from a blunderbuss is rendered harmless with a sizzling shimmer on impact. Noctrus growls and Amerst roars as a trio of peg-legged seagulls swarm with slashing cutlasses and daggers in either talon, screeching defiantly as they nimbly avoid the dragon’s claws, the tiger fending off their **** with practiced parries from his twin daggers, steel flashing and clanging as either side seeks opportunity, one of the gulls sent stunned to the decks as Noctrus pounds him with a terrific blow from the back of his claw. Kelsyre roars in frustration as a group of human pirates rush him with cord-like whips, their special sashes protecting them from the emerald dragon’s wind magic and the wolf’s electrical attacks, dissipating in a shower of sparkles as the enchanted fabric dispels the counterattacks, until there is a terrible crash as the ensnared dragon is pulled down onto the deck, cracking the wooden frame as Lizelle is thrown from her saddle. Amerst snarls as Malory calls out to their downed friend, but though unharmed, the pirates swiftly restrain Kelsyre as so many of their own have been ensnared, Lizelle drawing her blade as she rolls to her feet to come up swinging against a charging onslaught to rescue her friend, the tiger leaping from Noctrus’ back as he joins the fray, his daggers flashing with a layer of liquid frost. A dozen pirates charge with knives and pins and cutlasses, and steel clangs as the glowing blade of the wolf flashes and stuns her foes as her sword finds its mark, those cut by the tiger’s frozen into living sculptures of ice as the frenzied melee is slowly beaten back, until all eyes turn as a commanding voice shouts over the booming slam of a wooden door.

“Hark to me, ye cod-livered cowards, spineless ingrates! A crew from the four corners of Oreria, guns, spells, n’ cold steel, an’ none of ye sorry lot can subdue a couple Riders?!”

The bull shark is massive, towering over Malory’s stature, roaring like a demon as he berates his crew, spitting and seething as the faded golden greatcoat scarcely conceals his broad shoulders and hulking arms. You remain hovering on Prexa while Lizelle and Amerst maintain arms-length between two pirates, all holding each other at blade point.

“Well, cap’n, we did get this ‘un!” the anthro almost sounds pleased with himself as he nods towards the captured Kelsyre.

“Quiet, ye gutless mongrel! Lest I toss ye overboard meself!” the pirate captain seizes the weasel who spoke, his palm nearly encircling the smaller anthro’s entire neck, before he shoves him roughly back down to the deck.

“Aye, the head of the cowards shows himself at last!” Malory’s mocking voice cuts the tension with an amused thrust as he calls down from the saddle, “I suppose these fools must take after their captain, then?”

The bulls shark’s one working eye shifts towards the speaker, yet in that moment you’d swear it was the harsh scar across the left that did the searching. Spotting Malory nodding smugly from the saddle, the captain draws the well-worn cutlasses from their scabbards at this back, pointing them towards his foe as he snarls his challenge through two rows of vicious pointed teeth.

“A coward, am I, Rider? Let’s see ye speak as plain t’the bite o’ me blades then!”

Malory leaps down with the same practiced grace as Amerst, a bit surprising for an anthro of his plumpness, but he lands on the deck and bows to his opposition as the shark snarls with blades outstretched, only dim curiosity holding him back from hacking away at the knight right then.

“As a fellow talking animal and as a gentleman, I would implore you, sir,” Malory extends his gloved hand as the shark spits and glares, “Call off your men and surrender, there has been enough **** today. We shall tow your ship back to port where your crew will be treated fair-”

“The only ‘fare’ I and me crew be interested in, lion,” the shark raises the point of his cutlass and holds the edge of the blade within stabbing distance of Malory’s muzzle, “Is the golden toll we be continuin’ t’collect from every craft be passin’ by! But, aye, we had enough of your ‘****’ today…”

He steps back and raises both swords at the ready as Malroy’s paw goes to the hilt of his own broadsword at his back.

“So… let’s settle this the old way, shalls we? Blade across blade, none o’ yer spells, none o’ our guns, none o’ yer cursed dragons. Ye win, we come back to port with no fussin’. But I win…” he sneers as he licks along the edge of his sword, “I’ll carve the name o’ Tidegore into yer carcass and send it back with yer Riders as a warnin’!”

The shark captain rushes forwards with a shout, his greatcoat falling to the deck, as the lion draws his sword with a flash, the massive blade clanging against the crossing steel as the two cutlasses slash with an X, the broadsword catching the blow before it can follow through. The two titans stand locked for agonizing moments in a contest of strength and will as Malory’s sword holds back the shark’s twin cutlasses and you get a sense of the incredible power that both anthros posses, as you can almost feel Malory’s muscles straining through his armor and see the terrifying power in both the shark’s arms, applying enough **** that an ordinary sword would snap in two, and an ordinary man such as yourself would break like a twig. But the lion’s experience and will prove the match for the shark’s raw power, as Malory finally thrusts forward and pushes his opponent away, the pirate captain stumbling backwards a pace as he barely avoids several slashes from the knight before one finds home and scratches a gash across his chest. He returns the slight wound with venomous vehemence, lashing out with both blades in a frenzy of strikes, tearing up the deck in a shower of wooden shivers as he cleaves and chops at his opponent, Malory’s armor taking several scratches and nicks as he comes uncomfortably close to sustaining serious injury in the ****, parrying carefully with his sword as he weathers blow after blow. But the lion does not falter, planting himself with a defiant roar as he parries and awaits an opening, watching his opponent’s every twitch over the incessant shouting of the pirates for their captain’s victory, as the other Riders and dragons observe in silence, and as the captain raises both swords high for a chopping blow, the knight thrusts his blade across the shark’s exposed chest. It would spell certain victory against a lesser foe, but the captain’s own prowess is not so mean, and he pivots with the cut as the blade scrapes his skin, resulting in a deep gash but one which will merely leave another souvenir scar.

Another series of rage-filled savage slashes and cuts meet the deft defenses of the noble lion, blow matching blow as it slowly becomes clear to both sides that Malory has the upper paw. And through his anger, as the fight continues, it gradually becomes clear to the pirate captain as well. As he locks swords with the knight once again, he gestures out with finned fingers, and you suddenly find the blade of a cutlass held against your own throat. You gasp and your blood runs cold as a choked cry for help catches Malory’s attention, and in that moment, the shark slashes outwards and across with both blades, sending the lion down onto his back. He glares up at the point of the cutlass held to the tip of his nose as the shark smiles with his full set of teeth gleaming as bright as his sword, the cheers of the pirate crew resounding across the deck as Tidegore balances on the guard of the other blade, embedded into the deck as he intends to impale the lion.

“So, any last words, afore I send ye to the Spirtbond, lion?”

“Aye, pirate: Tenebrous.”

At the signal, there is a flash of magical light from the tiger’s daggers and the wolf’s sword, and the pirates nearby are blinded, allowing the two knights to dispatch them easily. In the moment of distraction, Malory rolls to the side and away from the captain’s blade, leaping to his feet and resuming the melee, driving back the snarling shark. You feel the hesitation in the shifting of the pirate holding his blade near your throat, watching as Lizelle and Amerst resume their fight towards Kelsyre as the green dragon topples pirates who struggle to keep him restrained with powerful exhalations of his magical wind breath. There is a startled cry as you hear a whack just behind and find Prexa lifting you up and helping you onto her back as she flaps her wings and rises off the deck, and you begin to shout in protest that the others need your help but she insists that they will be fine and she needs to get you a safe distance away while the others finish up with the pirates. But as she rises, you see a figure coming up from below decks where they must have retreated earlier, the brutish woman raising some sort of enormous, multibarreled gun towards Noctrus as he fights alongside his tiger, and before you can shout a warning, the weapon discharges, sending dozens of leaden balls towards their unaware target.

“Noctrus!”

Kelsyre’s warning arrives a second too late, and there is a flashing explosion as the black dragon takes much of the flak to his right foreleg, thankfully by the Spirits having turned at the last second in the melee to avoid a fatal wound to the chest, but he roars and bellows in pain as he is bloodied. But before you can register that his wounds are far from fatal, there is a second bang, much closer, and you feel a terrible jolt as you hear Prexa roar, and then, you are falling, falling as you catch a glimpse of the smoke of the strange handheld cannon of the pirate who must’ve fired upon you. All you can think is that you are thankful the pink dragon seems to be unharmed as you feel yourself plummeting down and meet the cold waters of the sea seconds later, wondering to the Spirits why you cannot move your arms or legs, why your entire body feels leaden. And then, before everything goes dark, you wonder what it will be like to meet Them soon.

“Wake up, please! You must wake up now! My little friend…”

You slowly open your eyes to find yourself on the deck of the pirate ship, staring up at the familiar face of Prexa as she smiles down at you with a look of relief, inclining her head to nuzzle you as you sit up and wince as you feel a wave of pain through your own. The Windbourne Riders stand beside her, thankful for your recovery: Amerst nods, Malroy pats a gloved paw across your shoulder, and Lizelle explains as you look around the ship that you were shot with some sort of toxic explosive, which Prexa was unaffected by but likely would’ve caused paralysis in any human or anthro- an intricate and dangerous weapon, and certainly the sort of thing they’d like to avoid getting into the city. The pirates are all **** or restrained with vines or ropes, Captain Tidegore among them, affixing the lion with a constant sullen glare but remaining silent as the lion gives you a wink and helps you to your feet, but the world tilts as you try to stand and you find yourself leaning against the anthro for support as Lizelle shakes her head when you try to ask about the effects of the ****- none of them are familiar with it and the pirate who shot you could only say it would wear off on its own. Although it’s better than what the pirates had planned for them, you can’t help but feel a bit of childish admiration as a freed Kelsyre flies out ahead of the ship and Lizelle hurls a grappling hook to capture the front of the forecastle around the railing, helping her dragon into a harness before he flies forward and you feel a slight tug before the ship begins moving, towed solely by the miraculous contraption. Noctrus chuckles as he tells you that with this magical tow, it’s about the same as pulling a cartful of apples, though you wince as you see the cloth bandaging his upper foreleg, but the dragon shakes his head and says he’s sustained worse, promising he’ll be good as gold after a visit to the healer.

You try to climb back into the saddle with Malroy’s aid but still feel rather sluggish, your eyes as heavy as your limbs. You feel a sharp chill and shiver, your clothes soaked and sticking to your skin from your plunge into the sea.

“If you would like, little friend, you could ride back inside me and get some rest?” Prexa offers as she purrs and rests her great head on your shoulder, “I would like that very much, but only if you wanted.”

You can tell she’s both trying to be sweet and also probably is starting to go into heat as it’s been several hours since she last got off, but after all this adventure, a little rest would be nice indeed. Not to mention it would feel much more comfortable to get out of these wet clothes, you decide as you begin to unbutton your shirt and the dragon goes to work on unfastening your trousers, pulling them about your waist before she smiles and says you’ll need to help with your own underwear as those tiny buttons are too much for her large claws. You manage a tired smile as she pulls off your boots instead, feeling the slight rocking of the ship as it rolls along the slight waves, helping your friend with your stockings as you stand there naked before her and she brushes the front and back of her claw gently down your chest and belly, teasing a digit under your chin with a small giggle. You don’t care about the jeers and taunts of the anthro pirates as Prexa purrs and nuzzles and kisses your face and chest while you lean on her snout for support- her scales feel safe and comfortable after the earlier danger, which suddenly feels much further away instead of so recent. The dragon rears up on her hind legs and unfurls her wings with a whoosh, shielding you from the gaze of the pirates as she cups her huge claw over your shoulders and pulls you up against her labia, her fuchsia folds warm and slightly sticky as you can already smell her familiar musky odor- you don’t mind Noctrus watching with little sighs and huffs in the background as she parts her slit and begins to push you inside gently, it all feels natural and safe and so wonderful. The rolling of the waves and raucous taunts from the pirates are overtaken by the squelching and suckling as you slide into the hot fuchsia flesh, feeling the gentle press of the dragon’s claw along your buttocks and legs before she clenches slightly along your ankles to envelop you within her sex completely. There’s a bump as you feel her pushing up off the deck, a slight shifting as she flaps her wings to rise into the sky, and then a prolonged clenching of her secret space all around you in a long and slippery embrace, and as she loosens her walls you find yourself drifting off inside her.

You awake once more as you feel the pressure of Prexa pushing you out into the grass, blinking up at her as you stretch and gradually rise to your feet, the other Windbourne dragons nuzzling your chest in purring greeting. You turn at some commotion as the pirates are being led off by the city guard towards a caravan, now their turn to be jeered and booed by the onlooking crowd of dockworkers and sailors, scowling as some throw scraps of rotten food or globs of tar at them. Malory is discussing the pirate ship’s inventory with Scarvy as you see the two gesturing to the hold and cannons, feeling the familiar wetness of Prexa’s large forked tongue licking her moisture from your skin, though she only came on you a little for a change, and you kiss her face and pet her snout in return. Lizelle comes over to join you as she pushes past a crowd of cheering workers eager to hear every detail of the adventure; certainly you can imagine the lion embellishing every detail in the days to come as Amerst leans against a nearby barrel polishing and sharpening his daggers, scoffing as he growls that the cursed alchemical effect from that triggered explosion near ruined the blades outright.

“For what it’s worth, he isn’t a bad person, not at heart,” you think she’s referencing the tiger at first until you follow the tilt of her head towards Malory, “He knows how everyone sees us, yourself included, and he just wanted you to feel a bit of that today. You’ll get to be the heroic human who assisted the Windbourne Riders in battle when he’s all done with the telling,” she pats a gloved paw across your shoulder, having removed her magical gloves for brown leather once more, her smile fading, “But how are you feeling, friend?”

“I’m… doing alright, I think…” you shake your head as you hug around the pink dragon’s snout as she whines, “It all seems still a bit like a fantastic dream, now that it’s over, I suppose? Mayhaps later I’ll feel differently but now…” you pet along the dragon’s snout and scritch beneath her chin as she huffs warm air from her large nostrils on your hands, “It feels good to be back on land.”

“Fair enough, my friend,” Lizelle pats your shoulder with a paw before glancing back towards Malory, who now appears to be arguing with the parrot, “I’d best go intervene before they come to blows, no doubt about what to do with the gold onboard. I’m sure Mal wouldn’t mind a souvenir or two…hmm, nor would I for our services.”

She departs as you hear another familiar voice calling your name.

“Dear little friend! I was so worried when Scarvy told me the Riders had flown out!” Drelfrumm purrs as he holds you to his beige chest in a long hug, “Thank the Spirits you are unharmed! It must have been quite the adventure. I wish to hear all about it, perhaps over a tall cup of cider?”

You agree on that sentiment and promise to fill the blue dragon in on everything, as the tiger interrupts after speaking with Noctrus a moment.

“You know, it might be a good idea for you to get checked by the healer as well, just in case. We don’t know much about that toxin, after all.”

You reassure a startled Drelf at the mention of toxins, considering Noctrus’ bloody bandage with a pang of guilt as he walks over to ask if you’d like to accompany him- if you’d spotted the attacker more quickly, you could have warned him in time to avoid being injured, and the only reason it wasn’t much more grievous was due to Kelsyre’s warning. You’d like to accompany him just to apologize and ensure he’s okay if nothing else. You turn as Prexa presses her snout along your chest and whispers in your ear.

“Noctrus will be just fine, he’s used to some injuries when we encounter bandits and the like,” the pink dragon reassures you, “But… you aren’t, my little one. When I plunged into the waters, I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to find you, or find you too late… I’m so very happy you are still with us, I just want to cuddle and play with you awhile, before they make us go back to work, and until you have to leave. Is that alright?”

You want to tell Prexa it isn’t her fault for not reacting to the cannon fast enough, but the words catch in your throat as you realize it is the same apology you owe the black dragon, and feel just saying the words might not be enough to convince her of their truth. Drelf stands beside you, brushing his claw down your shoulders and back, while Prexa and Noctrus await your decision. The poor blue dragon hasn’t seen you for over a day now, and was understandably very worried about your safety, so it would be nice to spend some time with him on his breaks as well. You don’t imagine it will take that long with the healer, though in truth you have no idea what to expect as you’ve not actually seen one before. It might be good to get examined just to be certain you’re recovered, and you could talk with Noctrus and rejoin your friends afterwards.