Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Chapter 17: “She Knows”
Generally, whenever someone spoke of any sort of god catching them unawares, that was something that was meant to spur action from the ones that they were traveling with, and often to get them to move just a little faster. Luckily, it was this kind of a reaction that Bejikixen was able to spur from his companions. Aesthyrarytiss did not even need to wake Nessa up; as Bejikixen helped her into her full plate, the elf woke up to both the sounds of the armor clanking together and Zaratoovir nudging her to wake up.
Once both Dragonborns were in their full plate armor and their gear had been packed up, the four of them left camp, with Zaratoovir taking to his Elven form. Even though he was in the form of an Elf, however, he seemed to move a little faster than the others—even though they were on horseback!
“How are you able to move so much faster,” Nessa asked, “and why are you in that form if your dragon form can travel so much faster?”
“I am in this form, Athearverthicha, because Tiamat will not be drawn to me if she cannot see what I truly am,” Zaratoovir said. “As for how I can move faster… I am not sure. I took most of my equipment from Mother and Father’s hoards, and they only took treasures from the most skilled fighters and mages. I am certain that some of it is enchanted.”
“Quiet!”
The urgency with which Bejikixen hissed this automatically caught the attention his other companions, who were almost instantly by his side. However, it was Aesthyrarytiss who had caught on to why Bejikixen was ordering them to be quiet, and if her skin was not dragon scales, the color would have drained from her face as soon as she realized what it was.
“Do not tell me…!”
“I am afraid so.”
The tone in which Bejikixen said this was all that Aesthyrarytiss needed to confirm what she had feared it was. Her wings slowly spread out as she trained her eyes on the skies above, her hand on her greatsword. Bejikixen did the same as well, while Zaratoovir took Nessa’s hand slowly and made to move away from the clearing.
“No! I want to fight!” Nessa cried, but Zaratoovir shook his head firmly.
“No. You do not have the advantage that Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen have. They can fight a dragon without being affected by its fearful presence. You, however… there is no telling whether or not you would be able to still stand against it, if it were to come against you. A scared target is its allies’ greatest downfall—a scared target is too afraid to defend itself. I will not have them taking you captive because you are paralyzed with fear,” he said sternly.
Nessa moved to protest again, but she knew that it would be useless. There was no way that she could talk Zaratoovir into letting her fight; not when a dragon was involved. When the streak of black came across the sky and let out a fearful roar, however, she soon understood why he would not let her fight, for he had to carry her away from the scene, for her feet were rooted to the ground in fear.
“This ends here!” Bejikixen cried, leaping into the air alongside Aesthyrarytiss, who was already taking her blade to the dragon’s black scales. While it did not sink through the dragon’s scales as easily as she thought it would, it still made a rather nice slash in the dragon’s hide. When it released a cry of pure pain, she took the opportunity to strike again, with the blade stinging a little more true.
Bejikixen took his attack opportunity here, raising his own greatsword against the black dragon, with his two strikes landing true against the dragon. It let out a pained cry here, writhing and tossing its head back and forth. The dragon let out a roar as it released a straight shot of acid at Bejikixen, causing him to fall from the skies slightly as the acid impacted with him. Aesthyrarytiss gave a slight cry, but this did not distract her as she took her sword to the dragon again, leaving another two gashes in them but having to drop some in altitude because of the weight of her sword.
“Keep fighting, Aesthyrarytiss! You can do it; keep at it! Do not let him beat you down!” Zaratoovir cried from down below, watching as the two Dragonborns fought the black dragon with every ounce of passion that they had within their bodies.
“For Bahamut! Give no quarter to the spawn of Tiamat!” Aesthyrarytiss cried, driving her sword into the dragon again, in tandem with Bejikixen’s aptly-timed slash.
The black dragon fell from the sky without so much as a single cry.
Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen landed carefully as they came out of the sky, looking at the black dragon’s corpse as they did so. Nessa came out from behind Zaratoovir, her eyes wide with fear and her limbs shaking. She could only stare at Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen in shock as she sat down with the help of Zaratoovir.
“How… how were you able to fight that dragon?” she asked. “I could barely move because I was suddenly… terrified for my own life!”
“Because we are as dragons, dragons scare us not,” Bejikixen said as he also sat down, aided by Aesthyrarytiss, who was tending to his wounds. “I cannot explain it better than this, Athearverthicha: because Bahamut has made us his children to fight against the spawn of Tiamat, he has granted us with the courage to face even a great wyrm without flinching.”
“However, more encounters with dragons would not be my first choice,” Aesthyrarytiss said sternly, placing her hand over a spot where the acid had corroded Bejikixen’s armor. “While fighting against them is valuable in an encounter, yes; it is one thing that we do not need. I would rather not fight against them every day.”
“You may not have a choice, Aesthyrarytiss,” Zaratoovir said. “In my past experiences, the dragons have never let one of their enemies go so easily. They latch onto them and question them, persistently, until they either realize that questioning them will get them nowhere or get what they want. Either way, it usually ends in death for their prey.” As he said this, Nessa glared at him pointedly.
“And this is why I did not want you coming along with us!” she said. “If they capture you, surely they will be able to tell that you are not an Elf, Zaratoovir; especially if they know your name! You yourself said that you refused to take on a second name because it felt unnatural to your tongue to speak a name in a language other than draconic.”
“But I could never forgive myself if I were to let you fall into the clutches of the Charirmolik if there was something that could be done about it,” Zaratoovir said sternly, sitting down before the Elf. “I know that you would have rather had me stay behind with the Aurixmolik, but I could not let you go into this. Not without my help, at least. Already, Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen have felt the sting of betrayal from a dragon that they thought was a friend—”
“Wait, there was another attack that I did not know about?” Nessa asked, and Aesthyrarytiss nodded begrudgingly.
“Aye, Athearverthicha—last night, while you were out hunting, Thraeixen—a dragon from the Ornmolik—attacked us,” she said, and Bejikixen looked away as he placed a hand on Aesthyrarytiss’s.
“He was my mentor… the only one I could turn to in a town filled with human paladins and clerics,” he said. “I was already out of place by simply being there, being a half-elf. Add in the fact that I was an emissary of Bahamut who would later become a Dragonborn, and there were very few people that actually wanted to be my friend or offer me assistance.”
Nessa stared blankly as she tried to comprehend what this meant. However, as she did this, both Bejikixen and Aesthyrarytiss looked up at the skies again, their eyes filled with concern as they moved to stand up.
“We need to move again,” Bejikixen said. “I am afraid that Zaratoovir says is all too true—we are marked as enemies of Tiamat, and so she will send every one of her spawn that she can after us. I am not sure if all of the chromatic dragons are loyal to Tiamat, but she is probably sending those of them who are loyal to her to the bitter end to hinder us.”
Even as he said this, a piercing shriek cut through the sky. Aesthyrarytiss and Bejikixen steeled themselves against the coming attack carefully, preparing their armor (although Bejikixen’s was corroded in some spots, and therefore weaker) and their swords. Zaratoovir prepared to take Nessa to the side, but noticed that the ranger seemed far more ready to fight now than she had the last time.
“Are you sure that you will be all right?” he asked, and Nessa nodded.
“Oh, I am ready this time. This dragon will not know what came at him,” she said, and Zaratoovir smiled slightly as she said this.
“You are a brave soul, Athearverthicha—braver than I think I could be when I was at your stage of life,” he said, taking the scimitar he had been given and twirling it around as he glared at the dragon. “Let’s show this dragon that we are by no means unprepared for a little spar!”
“A little spar” is just what the four got—while this dragon was not unprepared for a fight, neither were the four warriors that it was fighting. Flanked on all sides, the dragon tried to pick off one warrior at a time, but to no avail, for when he would prepare to attack one, another—usually one that was behind him, where he could not see—would deliver another painful blow that made him shift his attention to that particular warrior.
However, that did not stop the dragon from filling the area with a corrosive gas, rendering Nessa senseless for a few moments. When Zaratoovir saw this, something within him snapped—and he took on his draconic form, which caused the green dragon to laugh darkly at this fact.
“You have feelings for the fleshling ranger,” the dragon replied, its voice distinctly masculine. “How sweet and precious; leaving your clan to shadow her and make sure that no harm befell her or her companions. Honestly, you children of Bahamut make me sick with your ability to commit to a single being, be they draconic or humanoid—and your want to defend that one creature, even if it means your life!”
At this, Zaratoovir shrieked and released a stream of fire from his mouth, and as soon as he was able to again (after battering up the dragon with his claws, tail, and wings), he released another stream, silencing the green dragon. After a few moments, the four stood there, staring at the green dragon’s corpse and panting.
“I think… that now is as good a time as ever to set up camp,” Aesthyrarytiss said, and the other three nodded in agreement.
“We can at least begin an attempt to regroup before we resume our journey,” Bejikixen said, and Zaratoovir looked around thoughtfully. After a few moments, he laid down.
“Get on my back, young ones,” he said, and the other three stared at him as if he had grown a second head.
“What?” Aesthyrarytiss asked, and the golden dragon tossed his head again.
“Get on my back—I know this area of the forest well,” he said. “When I was young, my sister and… Thraeixen… and I would come out here and play. We knew all of the caves within the mountains which we will soon be entering—I know of the best ones to hide in to keep us safe from the dragons.”
“Lead us there, then,” Aesthyrarytiss said, climbing onto Zaratoovir’s back with Bejikixen’s assistance. Once the three were on his back, he leapt into the air.
