Craig Island Part One
-Storyline only, no yiff in this chapter I'm afraid. ;) You'll have to come back for more yiff later!-
It had been nearly 1300 years since the war's that had ravaged the land, a battle between beast and man. When the humans had first came to the New World, they had found a challenging place awaiting them. Both with fierce weather, sharp cliffs on their shores, and most importantly new beasts and creatures to learn about. The greatest of these creatures were the massive dragons that lived upon the edge of the ocean in great lime stone cliffs. Their scales coming in every shade imaginable and it took many years for the colonists to discover there were seperate breeds of the creatures.
At first all was well, the colonists were frightened of the creatures, but as the dragons showed no inclination to do more then defend their territories an uneasy truce was formed. Old books speak of them, pictures describing them and lumping them into two different breeds. The most plentiful were the ocean dragons, twice the size of a small horse they were scaled in colors that ranged from murky green to brilliant blues and everywhere in between. The lived on the lower cliffs and had short broad wings meant for small glides in the air, but in the water they truly found themselves at home. Fishing and diving, holding their breath for large periods of time and seeming to take no harm from it, they were mostly harmless and shied away from people and boats as strange, and after a few stings with arrows, painful new creatures.
The second breed was far more interesting, they were only few in number. Even when the colonists arrived only a handful were spotted and even then they seemed to be juveniles of the species. They were twice as large as the largest of the ocean dragons, with wings that spread in a vast expase and clung along their body like gliders. Their scales were all in shades of dark grey-blues and storm cloud blacks, sparks of white. Mohawks of fur ridged their heads, between curved horns and for the few that got close enough it was recorded their eyes swirled with every color of the rainbow around their pupils. There was no good name for them, they were scarce and secretive. Creatures that hunted high in the mountains and were only seen from a distance. And for many years, that is how the colonists wished it to remain. Powerful though the dragons were, they seemed content to leave the humans alone and go about their own life. But then...when have humans ever left such things alone?
A score of years after the cities had been created, great magic schools had been erected. The colonists had left the old world to practice without shame, and here they did. Developing powerful magics and creativity, encouraged art and beauty. But the beauty took a dark turn when one reckless mage took upon experimenting on a young captured dragon. Myths and legend had told of the many wonderous properties of scales, claws, blood, bone, teeth. And young Karrick had wanted to know it all! But it was to his disappointment that the scales and claws, the blood and bone, it was as magical as a horses might be. There was no hidden power here, not mystery that would show him a world of real magic. There was only a scared beast.
Karrick, desperate to prove to his elders he was worthy and powerful, developed a spell to see within the creature. To find that spark of magic he preyed for. And in that event he doomed the great winged creatures, for as the spell wove he found himself changing. The agonized dragon shrieked and death took it, melting it, changing it into a hard glittering scale as Karrick himself took on it's form. The magic gifting him with the beasts shape and the talisman to change back and forth at will. Here was the magic he had longed for, looked for, craved! And all too soon all the cities of the coast knew the powerful magic, the ability to fly, to have a powerful scaled form, and in time they realized the dragons long long life was also gifted to them. Lives that were cut short by not even reaching 100 stretched out to nearly 500 years!
The dragons who had formerly lived unmolested found their lives, their homes, their nests invaded. Captured, killed, their shapes stolen! It was a bloody one sided war, the poor beasts were netted in the oceans, shot down from the skies. Their once great nests abandoned as humans invaded their cliffs, their hunting grounds turning into a nest of nets and waiting hunters. It took nearly two centuries for human greed and their desire to become more powerful to overcome the already small population of dragon kind. Now you must not think of the humans as entirely cruel and evil, they did not believe they were doing anything so damaging. They were blinded and unable to give up the dream that magic had offered, a dream of wings to spread into the sky. A dream of bright scales and the power of a large and graceful form, their lifetimes stretching out before them!
In the end the dragons were gone from the skies and seas, gone from even animals memory. No more did the deer slide from their homes with furtive glances to the skies above, nor did the eagles avoid the high cliffs that edged the sea. The caves became nothing more then relics of the past, until even the old scales had been blown away. The only thing left of them were the talismans that so many wore, scales set into silver and strung around the neck, linked by blood and magic to the wearer giving them a second form. The bearers of these tokens were named Karrick's in honor of the founder of the magic.
Centuries rolled on, the cities grew, the people grew and the precious talismans started to falter. They were not so common as they had been before, it could only be passed to one of the bearers own blood and only then it would happen with a ceramony, for without that magic the former bearers age rushed upon them. So it was often not passed on, it was simply let loose into the world as a trinket and lovely jewelry. There were no more dragons to hunt for new mages to gain the power and despite their best efforts they could locate any hidden groups of them. There was even aborted attempts to mate in their dragon forms to bring more creatures into life, but as the dragons who's forms were stolen, they were frozen in time as sterile and pitiful things. And so now you know of their past...and you step forward into todays world, where a group of young mages gather in their tavern to tell wild tales..
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Anara shivered slightly as the cold started to dry along her body. She was sure she was going to end up sick, even though she had grabbed her cloak when running out the door towards the Twin Star's Tavern. As taverns went, it was definitely not the most expensive, in fact it was one of the least expensive you could go to and not end up in some backwoods slum where a cut throat might take your purse. The only reason it was so well priced and safe was the fact here was where students from the Mages School could come to drink after classes and spend their coin, the tavern keeper was an ancient weathered fellow who it was said was the bastard son of the last head master. As such he knew his share about magic and let the students gather and practice in peace. A win-win situation for everyone.
The students were gathered in a circle, just near one of the large windows where the lightening from a distant storm was gathering. Anara kept looking out towards it, the thunderheads dark black in the evening gloom and the scent of rain was heavy on the air. She was a kerrick, one of only three in her school, and had just a slightly better sense of smell as a human then most. It was even better when she was a dragon, but it'd been weeks since she'd flown. School and exhaustion making flying a poor second to sleep. She was slender and tall for her age, with short cropped red hair and bright green eyes. She almost was tom boyishly thin, and she often thought if she hadn't been a kerrick and a high bred girl she'd never get a look from the boys. But she'd pushed away those thoughts in eager attention to the tale a dark haired man was telling.
He was a kerrick as well, she could see the dark blue scale scent in his necklace and well traveled. The stories he'd been telling were entrancing and wonderful and the one he told now was chilling:
"Oh there's still a dragon, you can't be fooled by what those grey beards are telling you. There's always been one dragon left alive and no ones ever managed to catch him, in fact no one can even live on his island." He was saying mysteriously, his voice dropping with importance. A blonde haired boy chirped up.
"There's no such thing! If there was one left we'd get him! Why'd no one bother after they disappeared? And why has no one seen him or even talked about him?" He asked sharply..
"I'll tell you. Out far away from our shore is an island of grey rock and waves that are so harsh that no ship has ever managed to land there. You all know it, it's called "Craig Island" and not a soul lives there, no one you'll meet has even set foot there. Not even we kerrick will go there." His voice dropped down so that Anara had to lean forward to listen. She knew that island, it was a cold place and she'd always been told that nothing was worth going there for. No farm land, not good for herds, only a sparce forest and a lot of caves.
"Now back when the dragons were believed gone, they heard that an old mountain dragon had set himself up there. He was canny and already the oldest they'd ever seen, and so the kerrick set forth to roust him out and drive him to the hunters hands. Sithen was not to be trifled with, he was a beast like none of the others, wise and sly in ways that made many of the people think he was already a kerrick! Just someone playing games." His voice darkened, "One day they flew to the island and worked their ways into the caves trying to drive him out into the open. Using fire and loud noises that had worked on others, day and night they worked, following the signs of a dragon having lived there. And on the third evening... They succeeded in rousting the devil himself from hell."
Anara found herself tensing and a shivering feeling ran over her spine as he talked. She could just picture it, there weren't anymore mountain dragon kerrick left, there had only been a few. But she'd read about them, living high in the caves, dark greys like storm clouds. Their legendary rainbow eyes. She was surprised on of that kin had managed to hide himself away, not one of the more common ocean dragons. But the man continued as she listened.
"He erupted from the earth and screamed his challenge at the kerrick, somehow he knew they wore his fallen kinds forms and his rage was great. They chased him into the skies seeking to drive him to the ground, leaving many behind on the rocks. Storms closed in around them, battering their scaled forms and no one saw the battle that happened above. Some say that the seven kerrick and Sithen were struck by lightening when they'd attacked him, others think the canny old drake lead them to their deaths against some cliffs on one of the off islands. But no one knows for sure, only that their battered bodies were washed on the shore later and they fled the island.
"Now he's still there, hunters go every so often to try and capture him. He's the last dragon, but he's never been caught. And precious few have seen him. Those that have, have said he's a giant compared to the shapes we hold. That he's only seen during the storms and any who fly over his island are dashed to their deaths by the high winds and raging storms. In total, nearly fifty kerrick and a hundred men died trying to capture him until the last Headmaster wrote the law, forbidding any to go near that island. It was ceded to him, and Sithen has lived their since. Alone and enraged, waiting for his chance to kill every kerrick he can."
The man ended his story with a flourish and they sat there in stunned silence. Anara was swallowing, she'd pictured all too well what the beast must be like, but if the stories were true, the creature would be nearly 2000 years old! That would be impossible, and to defeat kerricks. She allowed herself a small smile, exchanging smirks with the two boys who were the only other kerricks in the school. They were full of importance and confidence. In flight she was fleet and strong, and far more clever then a beast. She finally laughed.
"A good story, but you're scaring the younger children. Everyone knows Sithen is nothing more then a rumor and a myth. People invented him as a boogeyman, there are no more dragons left aside from us." She laughed, watching some of the children ease up.
"A myth? A rumor? Lady, I flew near that island in a storm. I saw his wings churning the clouds and heard him roaring," The journeyman replied, narrowing his eyes, "I assure you he's real. I flew as fast as I could home, no one and no thing can fly across that island! That demon bred beast will tear them down and leave their bodies as warning for the next!"
"Sure you didn't just see some lightening? Or were you just scared of a little wind!" "Wyndhem answered laughing and poking fun of the stranger. Anara laughed along easily enough, only to find his eyes looking sharply.
"Wet-behind-the-ears babes, go and laugh! If you'd been out there, I'm sure you'd have wet yourselves and comes squealing home for your Mothers!"
"I wouldn't have, you kept talking about men. Perhaps you just need a woman to lead the way past that island." Anara almost purred her words, enjoying bating him. Especially about her sex, only a small portion of mages and a smaller one of kerricks were female. She often felt the need to defend her sex.
"Awww get off it Anara! You'd never do it!" One of the younger boys laughed, other's chimed in..
"Yeah you'd get a few miles out to sea and come running back!"
"Or you'd squeal for Wyndhem to save you or Lyr!"
Anara gripped her hands together in anger at the taunts, she'd often found herself taunted before when she'd tried to defend herself. And worse, she saw Lyr, the other kerrick, and Wyndhem laughing along with the rest. She tossed her head, stirring her short red hair and her supple lips parted in a sweet smile, though her eyes were bright with rage. The boys knew her at her most dangerous and stubborn, and went quiet sure one of them were going to end up with a bloody nose like the last person who taunted her.
"Very well then. We'll meet out at Ryull Cliff in one hour. Lyr, Wyndhem, you're coming with me. One of you can wait with me at the start and the other circle around and I'll fly right over that island to prove to you that either Sithen is a mythic creature or that you simply needed a woman to lead the way." She stated firmly, and there was a weak spattering of laughter among the few other females. Her chest lifted up in pride at her stand, not even noticing that the journeyman looked slightly sick with fear. Fear for her? Perhaps.
She had no idea what she had set her feet on the path too.