warforged | 01: Obsidian Sanctum

Entry tags:

the master (doctor who)

01: Obsidian Sanctum

Who: Cynder, Black Dragonsfolk
What: Bandwagoning the new arrival thing
Where: Obsidian Sanctum
When: New Arrival period proper
Warnings: Black Dragonsworn doing Black Dragonsworn things.

[Home is now a lava pit, it seems.

Cynder understood this was a different world. She understood something had happened to her own, and then she'd been snatched away to this place. Whatever that cloaked biped had said, she recalled most of it, and the imagery of dragons of multiple colors, and that somehow she was supposed to help. What she didn't understand was why Spyro hadn't been called instead. The Purple Dragon was after all, a hero. She ... was not.

She hadn't moved from the dark cave she'd woken in, black scales on black stone allowing plenty of natural camouflage once she'd tucked herself up and folded her wings tightly against her sides, trying to get her bearings. Only when she's managed to settle her nerves enough was she willing to leave her hiding spot - and that perhaps only because there are other dragons outside. Dark ones, like herself, instead of the blaze of yellow, blue, green and red she'd gotten used to at the Dragon's Temple. They might be strangers, but she was in their territory, and if they wanted to hurt her she'd be hurt.

The small dragon's exploration of the Obsidian Sanctum is as silent as she can make it, exceedingly cautious and as unobtrusive as she can manage. The dragonkin guards were intimidating enough to keep her from approaching too closely, save attempting to get around some and investigate the eggs very ... very gently. Dragon eggs were always precious things, and she won't touch, but they seemed a little strange. They had spikes.

And then further poking around, slinking from place to place low to the ground, using scent as well as sight and sound to tell what's where. She blends in fairly well all told, save the silver collar, bracers and tailband she wore; spotting her as she picks her way warily about, giving anyone and anything draconic a politely wide berth to try to avoid drawing possible trouble. Non-dragons, or things blatantly not related to them as the dragonkin were, however might draw the attention of Cynder very quickly.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She just got here? But that would mean...]

You're not one of the black dragonkin.

[Well that means he can cool his jets. He shouldn't get in trouble for leading an outsider dragon astray. Hopefully.]

Well, welcome to the black dragonflight, I suppose. [He makes a face at her trying to reason out what he is.] Your life is going to get a whole lot more confusing if you ask too many questions. I'm guessing there's numerous species here that you've never encountered before. [Which he can say with extreme certainty considering he's never seen so many of these species, and he's been around the block.]

I'm a black dragon, and I'm I guess working for these dragons now, but I don't think it's the same thing. This isn't my world.

[Mistaken identity might be a problem! She was black, she was small, she was a dragon, she might belong to someone around here ... except she doesn't. Cynder remains seated and alert; even if the Master found her less than interesting to talk to, she was fascinated by him.]

Thank you. [It never hurts to be polite! But maybe he didn't want to spend his time talking with a young person. Maybe he was one of those sorts of adults..

She weighs it for a moment before continuing. If he was unwilling then so be it, but it was worth a try.]

If I don't ask questions it'll be even more confusing. I'd rather it be an informed confusion than silent stupidity. Besides, it's good to know what's okay to eat and what isn't.

[It's probably her politeness that hasn't made him leave her presence. Or dump her off with Surion. The Dragon Mage needs more work.]

Well, that is true. [He presses a hand at his forehead. Maybe they can train her, if she's young enough, to eat all their enemies.] Just how old are you, anyway? [He'll get back to explaining different species to her. Probably.]

[Cynder will give anything made out of meat a go, so long as it isn't poisonous or something.]

Um. That's actually really difficult to answer. I think maybe fifteen years? I don't have an accurate calendar but it seems about right...

[But she's not sure. There was the whole being corrupted by Malefor thing, then later on the whole being trapped in a crystal for several years..]

Is age important?

Age gives a nice correlation when it comes to experience. [He cocks his head to the side.] But age doesn't translate well cross-species.

Take the age of a human: age fifteen would be potentially a sixth of their lifespan. For me, and one other in this world, as a Time Lord, fifteen might be a sixtieth. For a dragon? Well, I can't say I know much about dragons.

[That's true. Some races lived for a very little amount of time, and some didn't seem to die at all of age. After a moment's hesitation, Cynder nods slightly.]

I guess in those terms I'd be ... ah.. young ....adolescent? My kind can live for centuries, but not long after hatching we're able to talk and reason. I don't know how long the dragons flying around here live, or how fast they grow. I .. don't know a whole lot about most dragons, really. Just how to kill them.

[More importantly, this fellow is what he calls a 'time lord', and they live centuries as well. Except humans, which he resembled, were short-lived..]

Can you control time, or is your species' name more of a symbolic thing?

[She did notice. It made her wonder too. Species that closely resembled each other but WEREN'T the same kind, tended to take insult at being called the one they weren't.. ]

[An adolescent. He can work with that. Maybe shape her into a true beast serving the blackflight.

Or he'll just lead her off into a situation that surely will get her killed.

(It's good to have backup plans.)]

Well, killing dragons might come in handy further down the road. [Because all the flights are such best friends.] Nothing to worry yourself over right now. Just don't ever touch black, or Deathwing might "disown" you.

[Look at him. Being such a helpful guy to a newbie blacksworn!

...heh.]

I can... see time. [Pauses. Frowns.] At least I used to be able to. This... place--universe--has muddled with it.

[He wonders if the Doctor, all cozy with the bronze "time guys" flight, still has some kind of complete connection with Time. Best not to ask, it'll only make him jealous if the answer is "yes."]

[Although Cynder was perpetually wary of anyone she didn't know, he was being awfully helpful and not asking much in return. Maybe she didn't need to be quite so cautious. Maybe.]

All black dragons are allies? That's ... odd.

[But colorcoded for convenience. If it wasn't black, it may be an enemy. It's probably a good thing she was here then, and not with one of the other colors..]

I don't have my own powers anymore either. I think I have new ones instead, but it's not the same. Maybe there's a way to let you .. see time again. I'll keep an eye out.

[She'll volunteer that much assistance. It wasn't really a lot, but he was being helpful. It wouldn't cost her anything to keep track of things that might be time related.]

Maybe not "allies" exactly, but killing them isn't in our best interest.

[He strangely finds himself actually liking the small dragon, so there's at least less chance that he'll ultimately try to be her undoing, one day.]

New powers seems to be a common them among the dragonsworn. Surion, the blackflight's "Dragon Mage" as he's called, said that this world changes people. [He smirks.] I'm still figuring it out; I doubt I've even scratched the surface.

And thank you.

I'll keep that in mind.

[Not quite allies, but possibly if the other black dragons were hurt bigger, angrier ones would do harm in return. Cynder wasn't given to murder without having orders to that effect, but it was still good to know.

And it did explain his hesitation at first. Apparently the young ones were to be treated very carefully indeed. That she doesn't have to ask about, it made sense on its own.]

Maybe it's this world's way of helping us survive here. I think I'd have preferred to keep what I had before though. .. Do you know, if this Surion would entertain questions or am I best off paying attention and staying quiet?

[His advice seemed sound so far.]

[Without his new magic he'd probably be dead within days of arriving to this place, so Cynder makes a fair point.

He snorts.] He might actually get a kick out of you. [What with being a dragon and all.] He should be around the sanctum somewhere. We could likely find him.

[This is weighed. More answers were always good, but did she really want to face a dragon mage? That had to be more powerful than the Guardians had been..]

Hm, I don't see why not, if you don't mind terribly. I did interrupt your ... trek, I wouldn't want to keep you from it if it's important.

[There's something oddly sincere in that statement, where there might otherwise be mocking derision. As far as Cynder knows he had a good reason to be going in circles, she just didn't grasp it because she was too young!]

[He contemplates telling her why he was walking as he had been (he was counting and keeping a tally of the blackflight eggs), but decides it would better suit him to keep that information to himself.]

Not at all, I haven't seen the Dragon Mage lately, myself. Come along then.

[Dragon eggs are precious things.

Having a tally of how many mouths there will be to feed might not be a bad thing, but his intentions might not be so benign. It's probably for the best she's not aware, it would lead to even more questions.]

... Well, alright.

[She rises back to her full(comparatively small) height, content to follow the Master and see where he might lead. He knew the way, she didn't.]

[Surion is in his elven form as is to be expected. He's busy staring at some shiny crystal on the flat rock in front of him; there appears to be quite a bit of it, broken and scattered. It looks like obsidian, but it's cloudy in places.

He heard them coming, which is probably why he doesn't look surprised. He pulls away from his project and greets his visitors with a smile, polite and distant as always.]

Greetings. What is it you require of me, dragonsworn?

[It isn't like they were trying to be particularly stealthy in their wanderings; the Master wouldn't want to even try startling Surion. But the Master does give the crystal a frown, wondering if it was important enough to warrant the Dragon Mage's attention, or if Surion was just... well. Spacing out.]

Oh, nothing much, just an ever-curious new arrival. A dragon, even. [He nods down at Cynder and then smirks at Surion.] Thought she belonged here at first. Cynder, Surion. Surion, Cynder.

[Stay polite! Stay polite! ... He has very pointy ears.

Cynder doesn't say so, but it's definitely the most noticeable thing right away. Another human-like shape, just thinner, taller, more fine-boned and pointier eared. Cautiously the little dragon sniffs in his direction, but doesn't actually approach too close. Unknowns were not things to disturb the personal space of, after all. So far the not-human Timelord was a better known thing, and even him, barely.]

Hello. ... Are we allowed to require things of you?

[It might be an odd question, and it's ventured carefully in the wake of the Master's introduction.]

She does look very much like a black dragonling.

[He may smell familiar-- he was the one who gave her the brief talk before she was deposited in the sanctum. Though, he was hooded then. He carries the scent of ash and cinders. He smells, well, like a dragon.]

It is a pleasure to meet you properly, Cynder. [He bows slightly, but not too far.] You may ask whatever you like-- I am here to facilitate the relationship between dragons and dragonsworn. There are some requests I cannot grant, as there are limits to even my power, but I will do what I can to make you comfortable here. It is my hope that I can arm you as well, so that you may fight alongside us.

Edited 2014-07-04 05:48 (UTC)

[The Master likes her better than the sanctum's dragonlings.

For the moment, he keeps quiet and remains, though he could easily slide off, or maybe take a trip outside of the sanctum.

Instead, he sticks around, listening for anything that he might be able to make use of another time.

Knowledge is power, after all.]

[It is, in Cynder's opinion, a better smell than most. Familiar smells are good smells, and if he had a vague overtone of incinerated things, well, Ignitus did too. Carefully she marks this particular dragon-mage's scent into her memory, so she'll remember it if she comes across it again, especially if he's wearing a different shape at the time.

When he bows, she manages to return the gesture - but it's a bit different, front end low, wings briefly splayed outwards; it might be inelegant except she manages to make it fairly smooth. Politeness gains politeness, and her deference is prompt. He's older than she is.

The Master's quiet doesn't go unnoticed, but other than turning a bit to look and see if he's still there, she says nothing about it.]

It's a little weird to think I might need an interpreter when dealing with other dragons, but the culture at least is probably going to be really different. I am thankful for your help.

[Time will tell how different these dragons are from her own! Mentioning of being armed draws a faint frown and a flexing of one clawed forepaw. She'd never considered using weapons beyond what she'd been hatched with..]

What ... sort of weaponry or armor would work for a dragon? I'm ...used to relying on my scales, teeth and claws.

Edited (Ignitus. Incendius is a whole different thing..) 2014-07-05 00:14 (UTC)

Our dragonflight, as you will find, is rather reclusive. I'm afraid that many of my brethren are somewhat... touched in the head. I would not try their tempers, even on a pleasant day.

[Dragons can totally wear armor though. He's thinking.] A breastplate may help you, as long as it's made from a material that won't bog you down too much. The smaller dragons have softer scales due to their age, though of course, yours may be different. We could make you talon-sheaths...

[His eyes shift back to the Master.]

Thank you for bringing Cynder to me. Is there anything you need, personally?

["Touched." Nice, Surion.

...

Busted.

He grins.]

Actually, there is. I have a few questions, but perhaps another time. [Which really is for Surion's benefit, even if the Dragon Mage may not realize it. He doubts Surion wants others to hear the Master asking about "Neltharion the Earth-Warder" and what changed with that (though the Master has a pretty good idea).]

[Cynder doesn't respond immediately, head tilting slightly to look around. It's certain she's thinking about what she's been told about the Blackflight, and weighing it against what she knew of dragonkind. 'Touched' was a nice way of saying 'completely out of your mind' back home, did that apply here?

If it did, she was in very dangerous territory and would have to watch her step far, far more than she'd hoped for. Sharp tempers and volatile minds made for dangerous combinations.]

I ... see. I'll be sure to avoid as many as I can.

[She'll observe though, from whatever she thinks is a safe distance, perhaps under the cloaking effects of Stealth. Watching, listening and waiting may give her an idea of which ones are safe to approach. It figured.. she finally finds a friendship with her own kind, then gets dragged to a foreign world full of dragons ... and the ones she was to stay with were mad.]

I will.. have to see how tough my scales are in comparison to the armor of this place, I guess..

[Not that she was looking forward to it, because as far as Cynder is concerned there's really only one way to find that sort of thing out. Her head swivels again as the Master is addressed, then looks back to Surion. ... Then back to the Master.]

I can step away if you'd like, then you can speak freely. I have ... a lot to think about.

[Polite still. If the Master had questions of his own but didn't want to share them she wouldn't be nosy. Not yet, not while she's still fairly sure he's a Nice Guy. That would just be rude.]

They shouldn't attack you as long as you don't bother them. If they do, come to me immediately and I will make sure they know you are off-limits. [His tone is still very polite and pleasant, but there is a hard edge to his smile, to his eyes. He has a protective streak-- and why not, when the blacks were guardians of the deep earth?

He eyes the Master somewhat curiously, but doesn't volunteer a choice.]

[He thinks maybe he could afford keeping Cynder in the loop, but no, another time, perhaps. He isn't quite sure how Surion will react in front of one blacksworn, let alone two.

He smiles lopsidedly at Cynder.]

If you don't mind, dear.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Sorry for the delay.

No worries! Work has been getting to me, too. I can ping the mods for Surion if you want!

Sure! We can be off to see the wiza--er, mage

dropped them a line!

Re: dropped them a line!

I was out of town, but hello :)

and I totally forgot I now need to track the thread

no subject

sorry for the delay, I got sick after I got back fjdklsfjksldfsdsf

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject