Rhode Dragonfriend

[Dandin]

Read the second post if you just want to see the legend itself. This first post is simply setting the stage for the bard that tells the tale.

---

The Dragon Inn was full fit to burst. Women walked here and there, standing out because of the platters of food they balanced precariously on one hand. Good natured banter, conversation, and laughter filled the air, lending the place an atmosphere of boisterous relaxation. And it seemed like every delicious smell a person could think of floated from the kitchen. The aroma alone was enough to make one's stomach rumble, reminding a person just how hungry they were. At the sight of the food carried by the women, the mouths of all the men in the place would water.

It was an even more popular place to be than usual this night, and not because of the food. Rumor had gotten out that a traveling bard would be telling stories at the Inn. Legends and myths of old, tales of things forgotten. Tales to stir the blood of men. Tales that would make men spend money, and make the innkeeper a very happy man. No doubt it was he who let slip word of a traveling bard staying at his Inn. Most who were there were talking excitedly about what stories they would hear tonight, wondering, hoping. A bard was a rare occurrence at the Dragon Inn.

A man walked through the crowd just as adeptly as any of the staff who worked there. He was obviously a man used to maneuvering throughout such crowds. He wore a patchwork cape of many colors clasped at one shoulder. The rest of his clothes was just as odd, though not as colorful. A very clean looking, ruffled, white shirt covered his torso, and dark black leather pants were buckled up high, above his waist. High quality, soft leather boots made hardly a noise as he walked across the wooden floor of the Inn. Though such a sound would not have been heard over the din in the place anyway.

He looked to be of an older age, though only a few wrinkles marked the passing of time upon his face. He stood straight, though not very tall, and with a rounded, soft looking body. Clearly, he was not a man used to traveling by foot, nor was he a common laborer. People in the crowd elbowed each other, pointed and whispered, wondering if he was the bard they had heard about. Their suspicions were soon confirmed, as he made it to the front of the room, and marched up to a raised platform.

“Good evening!” He began with an exuberant, deep sounding voice. His greeting was roared back to him with just as much enthusiasm. Covering his ears with his hands, he feigned a pained wince, and grumbled something about not being deaf. Some in the crowd chuckled.

“I am the bard you have no doubt heard about. And I come with many tales. Stories of today, tomorrow, and yesterday. Things that were once real, things which have faded into legend and myth with the long, long years. Heroic deeds and acts of bravery, treachery and betrayal. Fables of life and death, from ages forgotten. I bring knowledge, and stories that will awaken the long dormant nobility within your blood. I -”

“What story will you tell us, bard?” A man from the crowd shouted, interrupting his speech. The bard harrumphed, blowing out the ends of his mustache. He grumbled something indistinct, though it sounded like a complaint of impatience.

Silence again reigned in the room, as everyone waited, holding their breath for fear of missing what the bard would say. “Have any of you here heard the tale of Rhode the Dragonfriend?” He gazed out upon the gathered faces, all watching him intently and shaking their heads. “Then you are in for a treat.”

“More years ago then you or I can count, a man named Rhode walked the very same ground that we now stand upon...”

[Dandin]

Rhode walked into the Dragon Inn. The place had a feel of destiny around it, as though it would be there for ages to come, and had been there for many ages already past. It felt as though it had countless tales to tell, like every plank of wood in the place had a thousand different stories embedded in it's grain. The feeling quickly passed, though, and he shook his head, making himself think straight. He was just passing through, and needed to ask the innkeeper a few questions. Such men always seemed to know every rumor under the sun, and he was following one about a dragon.

A dragon hadn't been seen in thousands of years, as far as he knew, but if there was one now, then he wanted to see it for himself. Chances like this didn't come by very often, he knew. Rarely or not at all. The old wooden door creaked as he opened it, and creaked again when he closed it behind him. It was a touch dimmer than outside in the bright sun, though not by much. And it was nice and cool in doors, away from the midsummer heat.

While he stood there, his eyes adjusting to the dimness, the innkeeper looked over and hailed him. “Welcome, stranger, can't say as I've seen you around here before. And I'd remember if I saw you, no doubt I would, I remember everyone. You staying the night or just passing through?”

Rhode looked over and his eyes beheld a man with a robust stomach, and a balding head. It seemed to him that every innkeeper was like that. This one, however, also had a kindly face, and wrinkles at the corners of his dark brown eyes indicating that he was no stranger to laughing. Not every one of them had such a fatherly look about them. “Just passing through, I'm afraid.”

The innkeeper looked disappointed, but only for the briefest of moments. “Ah well, can't say as I blame you. Ain't nothing around here but the Dragon Inn, no reason to stay. Maybe one day there'll be a settlement here, but for now business is bad. What can I do for you, then, young man?”

“I'm traveling by here, because I heard tell there might be a dragon in this area.” The atmosphere in the inn changed quite suddenly. What few patrons there were looked suddenly tense and jumpy, like rabbits hiding from a hawk. The innkeeper frowned at him, trying to hide his unease, and failing.

“No one here talks about a dragon. Bad luck, that is.” His reply was short and clipped, brief so as to dissuade further comment on that subject.

“But your inn is named 'Dragon Inn', surely if mentioning a dragon is bad luck, having an inn of that name is even worse luck.” Rhode almost laughed when two of the three patrons fled the place as though it were cursed. Clearly the thought had never crossed their minds. The third man sitting at his own table merely shrugged to himself before taking the food that the other two had left behind, and putting it on his own plate.

A even deeper frown crossed the innkeepers face. “Not my fault. Place has been named Dragon Inn for as long as anyone remembers. So, if it will get you on your way, I have heard tell of a dragon in these parts, not far from here in fact. They say it's just up the road, and atop that lone mountain, inside of a cave. Don't know how much store you place in the word of country bumpkins, but take it for what it is.”

Rhode could see that his presence was no longer appreciated. Despite his claims of not believing, the man still looked as though he was ready to bolt the slightest indication of trouble. Rhode decided it was time to move on. “Thank you kindly, master innkeeper. I'll not disturb you any longer. Take care, now.” He made no reply, but nodded several times as Rhode turned and left, the door creaking open and closed again.

---

The sun climbed to, and passed it's zenith as he walked up the road. It was an uneventful, though tense journey. An unnatural silence took the place of the normal forest sounds – birds singing, insects humming or buzzing – and it gave the place a sense of forbidding. In that silence, Rhode began to question whether or not what he was doing was a good idea. According to the tales, dragons once served man. They also killed countless other men, though only the evil ones. He hoped that was still the case. Despite his doubts, the thought of seeing a real, living dragon was enough to make him keep going.

Before too long he was at the base of the mountain the innkeeper had spoken of. Shading his eyes from the bright sun, Rhode peered upwards. A goodly climb stood before him. Without thinking further on it, he started clambering up, and found that it was relatively easy. Plenty of hand and footholds made for fast going. After about two hours of this, he found a fairly large ledge. He pulled himself up onto it with a groan, and lay there, catching his breath. His arms felt as though they had been set afire and turned to lead.

As he caught his breath, he realized that he could hear voices, faded and drifting down to him from somewhere above. Although it was so faded, it sounded, quite clearly, like laughter interspersed grunting. He wondered at who else would be up there. Perhaps others, like him, had come to see the dragon. If others were already up there, it must not be too terribly dangerous, he thought, and continued his climb with renewed vigor.

After another thirty minutes, he clambered over the edge of another overhanging ledge, this one much larger. His brief rest had not been nearly enough, no matter how refreshed he had felt. He lay there now, drenched in sweat, his mouth open, sucking great quantities of air into his lungs. Those voices he had heard earlier were now much more clear. Laughter and grunting echoed from within the cave. By the sound of it, not from deep within.

Once he again caught his breath, Rhode stood and walked cautiously into the cave, and was astounded by it's sheer size. The ceiling of the place disappeared into the shadows above his head, it had to be at least a hundred feet tall. It also widened swiftly once coming through the entrance, so that the walls were likewise quickly swallowed by the hungry shadows. He peered hopelessly into those shadows, wondering at what they held hidden in their dark depths. It made him uneasy. Judging by how enormous this place was, he reasoned that if a dragon lived anywhere, it would be here.

Eagerness to see the dragon soon overcame his sense of wonder and caution. He walked quickly, though quietly, towards the voices he could still hear. They had become much clearer now that he was inside the cave. Now he could discern three different voices, and they seemed to be speaking in hushed tones. Rhode moved towards the voices, blending into the darkness, slipping from shadow to shadow, making no sound. After a few twists and turns, Rhode saw the flickering light of a torch reflecting off the wall ahead of him. He moved stealthily to the corner of the wall, and peeked around it, just enough to see that there were three men there, as he had thought.

They seemed to be leaning against a wall, recovering from some exertion. Their low voices made indistinct noises, just as they had throughout the cave. The place seemed to carry sound very well. Rhode decided that until he knew who these men were, and what their intentions might be, he should remain hidden. A few minutes passed, and then it seemed as though the men decided they were fit to continue whatever it was they were doing. All three of them left the cool stone wall of the cave, and moved towards a limp form upon the ground. Rhode hadn't noticed it before.

Without delay, they began raining blows down upon the limp thing. It moved meekly, and a pitiful, barely audible cry escaped it's throat. With horror he realized they were attacking a baby dragon. Perhaps the last one in existence. Something awakened in his blood, and his horror turned into a furious inferno. It quickly burned through him, igniting him with righteous wrath. Whatever had awakened within him screamed for the blood of those three men, and it would not be refused.

Almost without thinking, Rhode strode purposefully towards them. They heard him coming, and turned to look, only to take a step back at the look of deadly intent blazing in his blue eyes. In his mind, the deed was already done, the men were already slain. Their blood was the only thing that would quench the fire that now consumed him. A distant part of Rhode's mind was afraid of what was happening, but the burning fury quickly consumed that as well.

Without stopping, he bent and picked up the flaming torch, continuing his march towards them. Fear filled their eyes. Three of them could attack a helpless creature, but they didn't much like the odds of fighting another grown man. Rhode didn't give them a chance to consider what to do, he struck swiftly and powerfully, without warning or hesitation.

An inarticulate cry ripped it's way through Rhode's throat, an embodiment of the rage coursing through his veins. He swung the torch he now carried with all the force he could muster behind it. The flames made a whooshing sound as he swung it through the air. It collided with the head of the closest man, and a sickening thud filled the air. It felt to Rhode as though the man's jaw had broken. He fell to the ground, screaming in agony, holding his face, which was also blistering from the heat of the torch. A piece of the torch had also broken off and landed in the man's hair. It now set the greasy mess ablaze.

The other two men had a small amount of time to recover and attempt to defend themselves. One pulled out a dagger, and the other a rusted half-moon ax. They both looked like men used to using them on defenseless victims. Clearly, neither of them really knew how to use the weapons. The one wielding the dagger made a clumsy lunge for Rhode, and he spun easily around it, smashing his elbow into the side of his head as he did so. He crumpled to the ground without a sound.

Only one man now stood in front of Rhode, and the fury he felt burned on unabated. The smell of burning hair and flesh filled the air, though the man's screams had finally ended. He had either died or gone unconscious. Rhode didn't care which. Knowing there would be no mercy given, the last man swung his ax with surprising speed for Rhode's neck. Rhode squatted, so that the blade whistled by overhead. He then rose up and kicked the man in the growing with as much force as he could muster. It lifted him from his feet by a good four inches. He fell to the ground, grasping at his wounded part. Strangled, pained noises occasionally made it out of his locked throat.

Ignoring the three men, Rhode bent to check on the creature they had been attacking. Even in death, it was a majestic creature to his eyes. Blue scales covered it's entire body, glistening dully in the light offered by the torch. From the tip of it's spike tail, to it's horned head, it was probably thirteen feet in length. Ivory colored talons were at the end of each of it's four toes. They looked both lethal and graceful. For all he knew, this was the last dragon in existence, and those three men had cruelly ended it's life, probably to keep for a trophy.

Anger rekindled, it blazed just as hotly as it had previously. He turned again towards the three men. The flames had died out on the one man. He didn't move. The one he had hammered with his elbow was beginning to stir weakly, and the one he had kicked in the growing was laying still, though breathing. Rhode walked over to the man who was beginning to wake up, grabbed him and started dragging him back out of the cave, towards the cliff he had climbed. Once there, he waited until the man woke up entirely. He then let lose another cry of rage, and gave a mighty heave, tossing the man over the edge and into oblivion. His scream filled the air until he hit the ground hundreds of feet below.

Rhode made the trip two more times, first grabbing the man who was now somewhat recovered from the blow he had suffered to his growing. He again waited until the man was fully aware of what was happening, and then heaved him over the cliff edge. Even as he screamed his life away, Rhode marched back into the cave and dragged out the man who had been set afire. The man still breathed, though he would be deeply unconscious. A thought struck him. Rhode grabbed the man's broken lower jaw and yanked on it. With a gasp and a cry, the man's eyes opened, filled with pain. Without pause, Rhode heaved him over the cliff as he had the others. He stood and listened to the quickly fading scream.

For a time, he stood there, looking down upon the forest where he had thrown the three men. The hunger for vengeance in his blood had been sated. It felt almost as though a fever had passed, he now felt cold and exhausted. Thoughts flooded his head, chief among them wondering just what had overcame him. It felt right, but it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Something in him had changed, too, he could feel it, though he couldn't place it. Changed forever.

Just as he was about to reenter the cave, a deafening roar, the likes of which hadn't been sounded in the world of Narden in thousands of years, rent the air. It shook the bones of the earth, and ripped through the air, making Rhode cover his ears in an attempt to quiet it. On and on it went. It threatened to tear the world asunder with it's primal ferocity. After a brief pause, in which his ears rung loudly, the roar sounded again, this time accompanied by a strange sound he could almost place. He soon found out what it was. A massive gout of flame erupted from the mouth of the cave, so hot it turned the stone black, and scorched the air dry.

He knew without a doubt, this came from a fully grown dragon.

Beneath his feet, the ground quaked, and he heard what sounded like immense footsteps coming closer. Before he could even think of what to do, the creature emerged from the cave, and held him in a raptor gaze. It looked as though it had come from the tales of old.

It's yellow eyes were larger than his head, and they bore an intelligence the likes of which Rhode had never seen before. Anger, hatred, and pain filled those eyes with such intensity that Rhode could not look into them for more than an instant. Just long enough to register their size, color, and the fact that the irises were akin to a cat's.

Towering over Rhode, the dragon stood at least sixty feet tall. From head to the tip of it's tail, it was probably over a hundred feet in length. Unlike the baby, this dragon was covered in scales of an acidic green color. They shone brightly in the fading sunlight, like emeralds. It seemed something as ancient as the sunset that colored the sky behind it. A crown of horns formed a circle on the top of it's head, all a deep black color. It's talons were the same color, and were viciously curved, made for ripping and tearing. Smoke drifted from it's large nostrils with every breath, and the earth seemed to vibrate beneath Rhode's feet. It was growling deep within it's chest.

It's tail was at least twenty feet in length, and it moved sinuously back and forth over the ground. Rhode feared what strength such a creature could possess. He knew that it could crush him with absolute ease, like he would do to a fly.

A voice filled his head, drowning out all his own thoughts. It matched the anger, pain, and hate he had seen in the creatures eyes. It was the voice of something ancient beyond reckoning, something with knowledge of things he could never hope to grasp.

“Human! Is it you who killed my child? Speak!”

“N-n- no, it was three other men. I-I.. I killed them. Their bodies are at the bottom of the cliff here, I swear!” It was proving difficult to speak around the fear that now clogged his throat. Suddenly, Rhode got the feeling that something was searching through his mind, viewing his memories. Again, the voice sounded in his mind, though with a less heated tone.

“I believe you, and you have my gratitude. My ilk can go now to the high peaks of Rishdar in peace. Fear not, human, for I will not harm you. I owe you a great debt, for what you have done this day.”

Rhode wondered why, but it felt right to be speaking with a dragon as he now was. That something that had changed in him seemed to want this more than anything.

“You are the only human I have found in more years than you could count who has some of the Old Blood in their veins. There is strength in you, Rhode, strength the likes of which this world hasn't known in thousands upon thousands of years. Long ago, in the time when more than just humans walked this world, there were those who befriended us dragons, and fought alongside us. I offer you the chance to pair yourself with me, to become as one, that we might do as those long dead did.”

Rhode was shocked at what was happening. But something long dormant was awakening in his blood, and he had no doubt at all that this is what he wanted. What he needed. Not knowing how he knew, he realized that he did not need to speak in order to be heard by the dragon. He simply thought what he wanted to say.

“I accept your offer, dragon. What will we do, if we are to be dragon and rider?”

Rhode got the impression of a smile from the creature. It felt like the cold smile of a predator with it's prey in sight.

“We will make the world tremble as it hasn't in millennia. It will quake with our coming, and those who hold evil in their hearts will run in fear of us. We will make the world remember the name of Rhode Dragonfriend for all the ages to come. Join with me, as your ancestors did, and we together we will strike down evil, wherever it takes shelter.”

Rhode nodded with a new determination, no longer afraid of the dragon before him. “I accept your offer, dragon.”

The ancient voice sounded once more in his head. “We are the last, you and I. Never after us shall there be another dragon and rider. Gone are the days of old. Let us fashion one final legend for the ages!”

The dragon spread it's wings, and Rhode gasped in surprise. It's wingspan was at least one hundred feet, and they were enormous. He could see red veins pulsating in the membrane. Somehow, he knew what to do, and climbed atop the dragon with ease, sitting himself comfortably between it's wings.

“Let's go” Rhode said. And the dragon dove from the mountainside, bellowing a great roar, a warning and challenge to all those with evil hearts. The last dragon and rider flew forward as they did in the old days. One last time, the world trembled at their coming.

[Dandin]

A spellbound silence filled the air. The audience barely blinked, their eyes glistening with the wonder of the story they had been told. No one dared interrupt, lest they shatter the spell that the bard had so carefully woven. His face seemed to have aged by years as he told the tale. Wrinkles seemed more pronounced, and his body seemed to sag resignedly. Sadness filled his eyes, and etched itself upon his face. “And so they were the last. And the world did tremble once more at the coming of a dragon and rider, and evil they did vanquish, until their dieing day.”

He looked out upon the crowd, all leaning forward and listening intently to his tale. “It is rumored that, before he died, Rhode Dragonfriend left behind his famous weapons and armor. His armor made of dragon scales, and a shield and sword made in a forge heated by the dragon's fire. It is said that he left these items in the world, where someone worthy would one day find them, and put them again to the use of the righteous.”

When he was quiet for some time, the people finally realized the story was over. They all took a collective breath, and started talking at the same time. Food began traveling to tables once more, as well as drink. The spell of the story was broken, and life would continue now as it always had. The bard sat upon the raised platform, with a look of sorrow for times lost on his face. After a long time of sitting there, he rose, and took his leave without telling anyone he was doing so.

These people would never truly understand what the story meant. The sorrow for the past, for great and noble things lost. It was a lament for the way the world was today.