184 Chapter One Hundred and Eighty-Four – We’ve a Small Dragon Problem (1/2)

-Sage Sama? We've got a small situation here...-

I always encouraged a little healthy understatement as a way of controlling fear. Someone who was screaming about the end of the world wasn't in a state of mind to give a very good report.

-Go ahead, Sergeant,- my chatty persona /replied.

-Well, there's some dragons perching on some of the wave-hills out here in the Badlands, along the Corridor.-

-Really.- Beat. -Not trying to eat anyone?-

-No...-

-Metallic hues, or primary colors?-

-Metallic. Bronze... and silver?-

-No gold? Pity. They look like this?- Images of Shield and Valor dragons popped up in the Markspace.

-Yes!- Great relief. I wondered why more people didn't know how to color-code dragons... Probably because changing scale color was a very minor effect abused by the nastier members of the species, and not many bothered to look at crest and scale patterns...

-There a Caster there with Messaging available?-

-Checking...- La, la, la... -Yes!-

-Tell the Caster to send this message to the silvery one, exactly as I'm saying this to you.- I /ran off some words slowly in Draconic to him, and he repeated them faithfully. -And tell me what they do.-

-Waiting...- La, la, la... -They appear to be rising... they're taking wing down the Corridor towards the Camp, ma'am.-

-I am relaying word ahead. Anyone who shoots anything at them deserves exactly whatever the dragons decide to do to them. Don't Stillflight them, don't snipe them, don't shout at them. Actually, if you wave at them nicely and blow a few horns you'll probably stroke their egos.-

-Really?- He seemed a little astounded. -Friendly dragons...- The sergeant was astonished. After all, we'd never met any friendly ones in Nightmare...

-It's like saying 'friendly flesh-eating flying fire-breathing spell-casting genius dinosaurs'. Keep your perspective.- I /warned him.

-Yes, Sage Sama.- he /replied quickly.

Dragons, huh...

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Although they weren't slow, it actually took the dragons most of a day to follow the Corridor through the Badlands, across the Dichromatic Plains, and up to the Camp where it was set next to where the Silver Worm crossed the Ring around Yle Tyorm.

Just to make sure there weren't any undue accidents, the Stillflight Field around the Camp was very obvious, and the dragons glided down to the ground just outside it. A small troop of cavalry rode out to greet them, and another small troop of spearmen cleared away everyone lingering around the southern gate and formed an approach line for the dragons.

Colonel Markov was at the head of the lancers that rode out to greet the great winged reptiles. He made a specific set of bowing motions with hands staying down while atop his Horse, attracting their interested attention.

The Shield dragons had scales like armor, the plates especially large on their necks and bellies, with fairly crocodilian heads, a frilled crest, and layers of bronzed scales overlapping. They had four legs, the rear legs far larger than the front, all bearing great metallic claws, all edged with faint, rust-like traces of green. Their builds were solid and muscular, giving the impression of armored reptiles made for war.

The Valor dragons were slenderer and more serpentine, their scales much finer and gleaming like polished metal. Their heads were more birdlike, with jaws ending in a razored beak, and a solid frill backing their heads. They had a nobler, more elegant look about them, their sapphire eyes very curious as they looked over everything about them.

”Greetings.” He looked over the five dragons, three Shields, two Valors, showing no fear of them, despite all their heads reaching up higher than his own. ”In the interest of crowded spaces and not panicking the rather high number of idiots wandering around, Sage Sama asks you to use your bipedal forms while in the Camp.” He made a gesture, and the Sorceress at his side flicked her wrist, five Disks shimmering into existence immediately. ”We shall escort you in, and keep away the fools.”

”And if we do not?” the Shield dragon who was the biggest and oldest of the five asked directly, green eyes fixed on the Colonel.

”Well, anything you knock down, you have to put back together,” he replied after a moment of thought. ”That includes fences knocked down by panicking horses, the tents said idiots are going to fall into screaming, the dishes they break, the tables they overturn, and the chairs they trample at the sight of you.” He wrinkled his nose. ”I think you've got better things to do with your time, sir.”

All five dragons huffed as one, a strange combination of cool and electrically-charged air spilling over the humans. There was just a glance, and their elephant-sized bodies shimmered and flowed with great speed, pouring down in size from six-limbed dragons to humanoid forms.

They were all fully dressed, two females, one of each species, and three males, two Shields and one Valor. The Shields were in bronze robes cut to resemble armor, with raised shoulders and heavy cloth, solid boots and trousers, and looked like deeply bronzed southern humans, with dark hair and green eyes. The Valors were in more casual blue and white tunics, high black boots, and riding pants, looking like fair-skinned carefree noble humans out for an excursion, their hair light, long, and gleaming white.

Naturally, they were all quite handsome or beautiful, with the imposing manners typical of the very confident.

The dragons hopped onto the waiting Disks, unperturbed, and if an arc or two of lightning crackled between the Shield dragons' eyes, everyone took it as a proper hint that they hadn't lost their powers just because they looked like humans.

Colonel Markov pointed, everyone turned about, falling into escort positions behind the five dragons on Disks, and they trotted calmly back towards the Camp.

The spearmen all pounded their glowing Spears and brought them down in salute behind their dragons, earning a flicker of approval for the courtesy, if nothing else.