posted on Jan, 15 2015 @ 06:09 PM
Pausing, The Rogue tentatively says, "Hello... have we... umm... met?"
A flash of flame and the room fills with laughter, The Rogue glimpses a horde of coins and other various artifacts both large and small. He briefly
glimpses the hulking form lying atop of the treasure horde. Pale yellow eyes, pools of molten gold, the grinning visage, the horns twisting round and
framing his scaled snout, the maw a razor filled vise of pseudo-wisdom and half-baked riddles. The Rogue was never a fan of Red Dragons. He says,
"What's your name Draconairre?"
The dragon laughs again and says, "How formal short-life, you may call me Rhakalaskhazadan, I am elsewhere known as Bloodthrone the Twice-Forged but
you can call Red. Do you know why you are here Rogue?"
"The money I assume."
"Yes, but why are you really here?"
"To kill you Draconairre."
"You spell as though you know me, short-life... Why did you ask my name?"
"You know why, Draconairre."
A burst of flame and a roar of frustration, "STOP CALLING ME THAT! You... you... inexcusable little up-jumped baboon! I have made feasts of your
people! I sit upon their riches, tell me Mr. Rogue who is it that I killed that has caused you so much pain?"
His voice a hoarse whisper The Rogue says, "Everyone."
"Speak up human!"
"EVERYONE! You killed them all. The last city you razed Red. You killed them all. Men. Women. You killed the children Red. All but one..."
The dragon sighs dramatically and says, "And here you are after all these years to kill me. So you can be the dragonslayer, the man that killed the
last living dragon in the world. Well, I've got a bit of news before I roast you, short-life, I am not, in fact the last living dragon so even if you
have the Dragon Crucible and manage to kill me I have a well protected clutch of eggs in a well hidden fortress in a well defended mountain
range. Hows that short-life? Twenty-three years Rogue. Do you know what that means?"
"You will have been dead for twenty-three years."
"Hmmph, stoic to the end I'll give that to you short-lives. No, in twenty-three years my eggs will hatch and a new Dragon Dynasty will regain
dominion over Gæa. Imagine, humans and elves all pressed back into servitude. We left a lot of gold unmined you know. The new dynasty will need Hardy
"Tell me Red, are all dragons so arrogant?"
"Only as much as all men are fools."
"What would you say if I told you all your eggs were dead, Draconairre? That I burned them myself, squishing the stragglers beneath the heel of my
"I would say you are a liar, short-life. And a bad one at that."
"Quite, what then, would you say if I told you I had recovered the Dragon Crucible?"
"Again I name you liar."
"If I were to prove one would you believe the other?"
"Do you presume to undermine my intelligence short-life?"
"Answer the question Draconairre."
"I suppose if you were to prove one then I may consider the other."
At that the Rogue reached into his bag and produced a teak box with Ruby, sapphire and onyx inlay, he opens the box and the room is bathed in a ruddy
blue glow. A mechanical whir is emitted from within the box and, shortly, a fist sized sphere floats upward from the box. The sphere begins to
rearrange itself as human and dragon look on in awe. Gyros are produced from the sphere, they begin to rotate madly as the mechanical whir
The dragon mutters, "No, but how did you..."
"Get past the Sphinx? Well, lets just say I'm a man of many mysteries my friend." Quips The Rogue, placing his hands in his pockets.
"I suppose this is goodbye then?"
"Yeah, it is Red."
"That's the fun of it Red, you'll never know. Not that it matters where you're going."
"You treacherous little... I bloody hate you humans, too damned determined! You never let well enough alone and it causes you nothing but misery! You
"That's where you're wrong Red. All we need is love."
The Crucible had expanded to five times its original size and was whirring louder than ever. The wind from its gyroscopic spinning blew back The
Rogue's hood and was tossling his hair as the Dragon was disassembled piece by piece and transported to wherever the Crucible relocates dragons.
Hell, is what the legends call it.
At last Red had been fully dematerialized, at which point the Dragon Crucible reverted to its original state and fell to the floor.
The Rogue walks over and picks up the Crucible. He tosses it up and catches it again.