Out of the Gate and into the Renaissance Fair

[Okor]

Okor gazed upon the Obsidian flank of the dragon, its black, stone-hewn hide etched with metallic patterns, iridescent elements swirling and cavorting along the darkness of its stone skin. Great dark wings, carved from solid rock sought to darken the sky, outstretching from its massive body. It was a thing of terrible beauty, power evident in the carved muscles etched across its mass. But of course, how much of that was true? Power in this realm was such a mercurial, deceptive thing. As has been proven time and time again, a small child could summon forth the same power that the Plague Marine had spent his many millennia accumulating and honing. The strength and durability promised in this creature may be but a lie, a thin veneer of reliability over a patchwork mess of Omnillium and hope. What could truly be trusted? He opened his mouth to speak, counsel against this action, when Rebbecca scrabbled up the beast's tail, laughing and shouting as she bounded up its spine, pale feet slapping against its bulk. Sighing in resignation, the rotting giant began to climb the beast's tail, smudging the delicate patterns of raw metal beneath his corrupted tread, as he settled on to the beast's back, offering his bulk to support the delicate figure of Rebbecca, who watched the proceedings with wide, alien eyes.