Dragon Village

You pull your cloak around your shoulders as the autumn wind stirs the leaves at your feet and sends a slight chill across your arms and face. It's taken a full day's journey from the inn where you last stayed, a total of four days since you set out on your original journey, and now, as you reach the edge of the woodland trail, you wonder not for the first time if perhaps this trip was a mistake. Had you returned to your little hamlet in the southern plains following your studies at Halfman's College, you could have had a quiet but promising future bookkeeping for your father's dried goods shop. But your tenure at Halfman's had been a solitary affair and afforded you plenty of time to think about what you wished to do after graduating, and so within a year of making preparations, you had set off for the northeastern part of the continent by the old trade routes, bound for the Dragon Village. But the best laid plans and all your studies had not prepared you for the long and weary road, the loneliness that set in when you broke off from the caravan on the second day, missing the touch of the mole in whose strong arms you had spent that evening, kept warm by a meager campfire that third night before a kindly fat rat had been nice enough to pay for your room at the inn. The smell of his balls and fluffy buttocks still lingered in your nose, or at least in memory, but at least his temperament had been a counterpart to his odor. You absently finger the charm around your neck and give a little thanks to the Home Spirits you hadn't encountered any bandits on the roads.

You close your eyes as you reach the edge of the treeline, picturing for a moment longer what the town will look like when you arrive, knowing your next step will send you on the grassy field stretching for miles to the forest's edge to the south, bordered by the Borpheus mountains to the north. You aren't expecting spires of gold and jewels as some of the travelers on the caravan route had described in jest, but even the size of the place is hard to imagine; you've never seen a sailing ship, let alone a city. Even the town's old name, Igrandramnyr, Great Site of Dragons, a composite between the old Foxen and Poragee's tongues from the ancient settlement, as you recall from your studies, conjures up visions even now of towering splendor, fantastic pillars of ancient magical power, and runes older than memory. The truth of the original architecture on the site is lost to time and shrouded in myth, of course, built over and upon as the town grew exponentially over several centuries, but you can picture a series of squat huts and simple wooden structures inhabited by primitive foxes and humans, with dragons resting or flying overhead. And what will they be like, the dragons themselves? You've only seen one years ago, as they were not common on the southern part of the continent, and it was flying so high overhead you only remember how incredible the wings were, sending a whoosh to your ears with a solitary flap. And another villager swatting your shoulder and telling you not to stand staring if you didn't want to get pooped on.

With a deep breath, you stand still once more, and open your eyes, as imagination and memory are pulled jarringly into the present.

Igrandramnyr stretches so far in either direction, east and west, that you can't possibly take it all in at a glance. Birds flying overhead appear as butterflies compared to some of the taller structures, great stone houses and small mansions inhabited by the wealthiest citizens. Your gaze is instantly drawn to the center of town at the glistening majesty that is Landsing University, a great domed edifice built of shining white marble and clearly visible from the hill on which it was erected even at this still great distance. You remember shaking the paw of Professor Grufftun and shaking your head in disbelief as he announced his new appointment at Landsing during your last term at Halfman's, and can't imagine what it must be like to go off to work in such a magnificent structure every day. You see a cart stop at the main gate as you stand watching, entering at a nod from the guard before it is lost in a sea of humans and anthros, a confusion of houses and shops at whose wares you can only guess from this distance. Your eyes widen in awe as you see a ship pulling into the harbor at the city's eastern port, sails furled as it slowly drifts on an ocean as wide as the sky, its size even more tangible with a second ship approaching from somewhere in the blue distance. You are almost afraid to continue into this overwhelming expanse of a town when you see the familiar site of a windmill spinning placidly at the southern edge, likely just inside the border walls. As you are recovered enough by this familiar sight to journey onwards, a whoosh you haven't heard since childhood pulls your gaze to the skies.

A dragon with copper scales soars from one of the outlying farms over the edge of the western wall and past the treeline, headed somewhere in the direction from which you had come. The creature is moving too quickly and too high for you to get a really good look at it, but the sheer size of the dragon is mesmerizing- as big as a caravan wagon or a vendor's stall!- and you turn to catch a glimpse of the pointed tail before the treetops obscure it again. To think that you will be living alongside such magnificent creatures daily almost overwhelms you again, and you wonder how such huge reptiles can maneuver comfortably in what appears to be such a crowded city, in spite of its breadth. Well! You didn't come this far not to find out, and you certainly aren't going to stop now, with the gates almost within shouting distance. In time, the mysteries and wonders of the city will surely unveil themselves to you, and perhaps, after living in its walls for a few fortnights, such wonders will even seem commonplace. Though you shudder at the strangeness of such a thought just now.

Two large hyenas stand guard at the main gate, next to a simple wooden gatehouse, equipped with a spear apiece and having a dagger at their belts that looks as though it would as at home in a butcher's shop as on a battlefield. They are both chubby but muscular, having large unkempt manes and dust in the fur of their spotted legs. As is the habit with many anthros, particularly the large sort- like a few of the wolves in the caravan and the rat from two nights past- outside of the leather armor protecting their shoulders and chests, they wear but a simple loincloth that doesn't leave much to the imagination. You wonder how often they are called on to protect the city from danger, but as one raises a paw to stifle a yawn and the other scratches at the fur of his plump belly as you approach, you conclude it can't be very often, outside of maybe chasing down the occasional thief or pickpocket. They snap to attention but observe your arrival with a glazed expression; given the size of the city, even with multiple entrances at any end of the compass to keep commerce flowing, they must see hundreds of travelers on a daily basis.

"So... wot's your business within ol' Igrandramnyr then?" asks the hyena on the left, resting a bit on his spear shaft.

"I am... come to find work..." you stutter a little as you are distracted by the sounds of merchants shouting their wares and a loud conversation can be discerned, if not heard, from inside the gate.

"Well, yore in luck, I should say," the hyena on the right nods as he speaks, "Plenty of work for honest sorts to be had 'ere."

"Now, you are of the honest sort, aren't you?" the hyena on the left takes a step forwards as he asks the question. He's nearly seven feet tall and twice your width, and if that wasn't enough to be intimidating, the smell coming off his fur is enough to make you cower. He certainly hasn't bathed in at least a week, and his breath smells like pickles as he squints at you a moment. His strong paws pat down your chest, sleeves, and legs, checking for anything suspicious. You show him your map and purse, and he observes them for less than a second each before giving them back to you.

"Naw, he looks like the honest sort t'me, he does," says the hyena on the right, picking inside a black nostril with a pawtip, "Just behave yerself and don't cause any trouble. You can go in."

You thank them and are about to enter the gates when you hear another whooshing sound nearby. You look to your right, several meters beyond the edge of the border wall of the village, to see where a dragon with light blue scales has alighted. As you watch for a moment, the creature yawns, lifts his huge tail, and squats. Judging by the massive dung piles nearby, it isn't difficult to guess what he's doing. You feel a slight tinge of embarrassment as you quickly look away, which is immediately worsened by the pair of hyenas' bursts of laughter.

"Yeah, best get used t'seein' that when yore comin' and goin' between boroughs," the hyena on the left chuckles and slaps his knee, "They like to use it fer compost around town, since the dragons provide plenty of it. 'Course they've built up toilets big enough fer them an' anybody else, too, so its really just a preference."

"I prefer somethin' more portable meself," the hyena on the right gives a tug about his waist, and you see he's wearing a diaper made of very finely tanned leather, thankfully clean for the moment, "Jus' hope y'don't have t'change one a these onna dragon, friend!" both guards resume their raucous laughter before he continues, "I got asked t'help once, twas the worst thing I ever smelt in my life, Spirits have Mercy 'pon me! I'm just glad he didn't try t'stuff me down innit!"

You cringe a bit at the lewdness of their conversation before a new voice interrupts.

"Oh, human, do you think you might help me out with something...?"

You turn to see the dragon who was pooping a moment ago standing in the distance over the sizeable dung pile he just made. You don't want to be rude, but it might not be the best idea to get too close to a dragon after they've just relieved themselves, given what the hyena just said.

"He's sure to find some use for you, friend!" winks the hyena on the left as the right one snickers and nods emphatically, " 'Course, if it's money yore after, he might have a few coins or somethin' nicer if you lend him a hand, or yer face, haha!"

The hyenas laugh and jostle each other a moment as you stand deciding. When they calm down again, the hyena on the right addresses you once more.

"Well, wot's it gonna be, friend? Are you comin' in or not?"