An Audience With the Queen
Who: Paarthurnax and the Grieving Queen
Where: Fayren, around the Queen's castle
What: Someone has apparently been throwing up castles, kidnapping children and scaring the sheep. Paarthurnax comes to make enquiries.
When: January 6
The hooded stranger had warned not to approach the castle. But Paarthurnax judged that he, of all people, had little to fear from a mere visitation. And if its mistress sought to steal away the weak and the noble from their number, then now was the time to be bold.
The white spires rose before him, graceful as any elven tower, as steep and gleaming as any mountain peak. The power within was palpable, mirrored by the snowy winds swirling about it. Abruptly, the wind bucked under his wings. The air slammed up against him. The sky itself turned, screaming in his ears, flinging icy flurries in his eyes. He swung his tail down swiftly, caught the air in his wings and banked away until it calmed. He knew he had reached the bounds.
For now he would not contest them. He was close enough to see and to be seen. So the dragon circled, trailing a wingtip against the edge of that boundary, tasting the power that held it. His reptilian head was turned to the castle below, studying intently. He did not roar; did not utter a sound. There was no need.
Whoever dwelt within, they would know he was here.
Where: Fayren, around the Queen's castle
What: Someone has apparently been throwing up castles, kidnapping children and scaring the sheep. Paarthurnax comes to make enquiries.
When: January 6
The hooded stranger had warned not to approach the castle. But Paarthurnax judged that he, of all people, had little to fear from a mere visitation. And if its mistress sought to steal away the weak and the noble from their number, then now was the time to be bold.
The white spires rose before him, graceful as any elven tower, as steep and gleaming as any mountain peak. The power within was palpable, mirrored by the snowy winds swirling about it. Abruptly, the wind bucked under his wings. The air slammed up against him. The sky itself turned, screaming in his ears, flinging icy flurries in his eyes. He swung his tail down swiftly, caught the air in his wings and banked away until it calmed. He knew he had reached the bounds.
For now he would not contest them. He was close enough to see and to be seen. So the dragon circled, trailing a wingtip against the edge of that boundary, tasting the power that held it. His reptilian head was turned to the castle below, studying intently. He did not roar; did not utter a sound. There was no need.
Whoever dwelt within, they would know he was here.