The Meeting (Silvarn & Ancalagon)

[Ancalagon]

A pair of red slits gleamed through the dark of the night through the dense leaves of the bush infront of Ancalagon who crouched hidden, his long, slender but muscular, body coiled, ready to spring. A blue sheen gleamed dully off his dark scales as a ray of moonlight touched his flank in the night.

Ancalagon narrowed his eyes as he watched the human sitting before his fire, completely unaware of his hiding among the bushes, or so he thought... He had not pounced for he had sensed great power inside this human. He was wary of his power, for his prey were usually powerless humans, not powerful mages... Still he crouched, 100 yards away from him, feeling the faint flicker of the fire on his scaley face, thinking... Shoudl he approach or should he slink away? He, as a dragon of course, was attracted to power and yearned to know of all power...

Finally making up his mind, Ancalagon shifted from his position and streched his taloned legs out of the bush. He extended his neck out of its cramped, coiled position so it arched majestically as it always did. He stepped out and ruffled his wings. He stood and faced the mage now openly, not showing any signs of hostility and inclined his head in greetings. "Greetings" he said in his deep, gutteral voice as his head lowered, waiting for a reaction or a reply....

[Silvarn]

Silvarn threw some small twigs into the fire, staring moodily into the dancing flares.

"I was wondering when you would show yourself." he grumbled. "You have been watching me for some time now. Bored, are we?"

The grey-cloaked mage tossed another handful of tender into the fire. "Yes, I realize his mental defences are tough. He is a dragon, after all." His eyes were still focused on the burning wood, and it seemed he spoke to it. "Yes, I also realize that dragons have harder skulls than humans. Sometimes not even in the physical sense. All I want to know is if he's hostile or not."

Silvarn's steely eyes snapped back into focus and his gaze rose to meet that of the dragon's. "And to whom to I owe the honor of meeting?" he asked, the undertone of sarcasm all but obvious.

[Ancalagon]

Ancalagon raised an invisible eyebrow as he watched this strange mage talk to the fire then to himself. "I am Ancalagon. And yourself?" he asked in a neutral but rough voice. His eyes flickered from the mages face to how he dressed himself then up to his face again. He could tell he was wary of Ancalagon, though it would have been desperately obvious if Ancalagon was about to make an attack. He was merely curious at the moment...

[Silvarn]

"Others have called me worse, but I prefer being called Silvarn Grey-Eyes."

He paused for a moment, contemplating what to do next.

Stop it. Whatever you are doing. a sneering voice commanded from inside Silvarn's head.

"And what would that be?" Silvarn asked aloud, to the fire.

Thinking. You know what happens when you think too hard.

"Oh, yes. You turn my train of thought down dark and perverted tracks, correct?"

Exactly. the disembodied voice cackled with malicious glee. I should remind you, however, about our past experiences with dragons.

"My memory fades. The majority of my recollections are now focused on Creation."

Strangely enough, mine does as well. You recall the Usurpers?

"You recall Heaven's Gardener's? The true Usurpers?"

But who was it who carried out the Usurpation?

"Those foolish Dragon-Blooded, of course."

I would advise addressing our guest; he looks rather baffled.

"My apologies, Ancalagon. My, what a mouthful."

[Ancalagon]

Ancalagon watched with a raised eyebrow as Silvarn talked to the fire.
"Yes indeed." he said still watching the crackling flames warily. He didn't like something about this, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He was confused by this mage and he didn't like not understanding things. He took a step foward so he stepped into the circle of firelight. He stood perhaps 3 ft taller than Silvarn, his mirror-black scales reflecting the dancing flames.
He himslef did not know about the 'Usurpers', but he guessed from the last line of Silvarn's conversation with the fire that it involved dragons in some way.
"Who are these Usurpers you speak of?" he asked Silvarn quietly, his low, growling voice combining with the crackling of the fire, his bright scarlet eyes fixed on the mage.

[Silvarn]

"Usurpers? How did you...?"

Just answer the question, Silvarn. the voice leered.

"But how did he know we were discussing...?"

Just answer him!

"The Usurpers, you ask? I am originally from a plane of existence called Creation. In it, the Solar Exalted, the Chosen of the most powerful god, the Unconquered Sun, ruled and created a golden age. But a curse was laid upon them and turned their hearts to poison. The Sidereal Exalted, Chosen of the Five Maidens, the Weavers of Fate, saw what disasters this would bring and sided with the Terrestrial Exalted, Chosen of Gaia. They then corralled the Solars in a banquet and slaughtered them. That night was called the Usurpation, and the Terrestrials, the Dragon-Blooded, the Usurpers."

Silvarn looked into the lethal crimson with his own steely eyes, and asked, unwavered, "Any other questions that require lengthy answers?"

[Ancalagon]

Ancalagon watched in slight alarm and amusemt as Silvarn continued to talk to himself and a smile began to creep onto his face. However he listened to Silvern's story and thought 'Well, he may be a bit loopy, but he certainly is wise'.

He blinked when the story was over and chuckled at Silvern's last comment. He was beginning to like this strange mage. "Maybe" he answered with a smile on his lips, as he walked round the fire to the opposite side and slumped down beside it opposite Silvarn and said "But tell me, why do you talk to the fire?" Ancalagon had always been very straightfoward and he knew this threw most people, but he didn't care. He was still rather curious of Silvarn and his stories. His blood red eyes gazed patiently at Silvern through the flames, as though he could listen to him all night long.

[Silvarn]

"I talk to the fire...because..."

Because why...? Oh, please, do tell him! the voice snickered excitedly.

"And why would you want to know, Scorcahr?" Silvarn growled at the burning wood.

Just answer the question, for Malfeas' sake! Scorcahr screeched.

"In that case, I will keep my mouth firmly shut."

Do you really want me to give us a migraine? Because, I will. And you know how grumpy I get when our head hurts.

"Very well." the grey mage's eyes snapped back into focus on Ancalgon's snout. "I speak to the fire because...it listens...without discrimination."

[Ancalagon]

Ancalagon nodded but did not answer, his eyes on the fire. He still did not understand Silvarn...
After a pause, Ancalagon said "So why are you here, Silvarn, in the middle of the forest? A mission perhaps?" his eyes snapped back to his steely eyes.

[Silvarn]

"A mission? A mission is what I have just come from."

And some adventure it was...what a waste of time. Scorcahr grumbled.

"It had excitement, loot, and a climactic clash against an old foe. What more do you want?"He heard the demon inhale within his head, then he shouted, "No! Stop! I am sorry asked!"

Fine. Be ignorant of my feelings. Scorcahr said with indignity.

"Gladly," Silvarn exhaled.

We did not even get to fornicate, not once! the demon whined.

"Is that all you think about, Scorcahr? Abusing your nether regions with the help of someone else's?"

Not entirely. I also think about how I would best like to eat people. Take our present company. I think he would be best with a side of charred unicorn flank and a glass of gorgon's sweat. Mmm...savory. Oh, and cherubim flesh sprinkled with halo powder for dessert.

"Oh, enough already. I am glad you are not carnate. I do not think I could stand your diet."

And I do not think I could stand your presence entirely. You are too...human.

"There, you and I agree. What was that word again? Anthop? An...an-something...?"

Misanthrope. Good word. Describes we Malfeans quite well, actually.

"Yes, one thing on which you and I agree. People are too human."