10-23-2016, 11:19 PM
Exploring the depths of one’s own mind wasn’t as perilous as wandering a frozen wasteland. That was of course, provided you weren’t suffering from serious mental trauma. Rasteva was fortunate enough to say that they weren’t, but all the same their mind posed a whole host of other issues. Namely that it was woefully cluttered. In all their years of existence, Rasteva had spent all of them wandering from place to place and absorbing as much knowledge as they could.
And yet for all that they could not find a scrap of information that would possibly help them in their current situation.
Rumbling in mild irritation, the Daemon pulled their thoughts from plumbing the recesses of their own consciousness and turned their attention back to the outside world. Their night had passed in relative peace, with nothing of considerable note happening in their vicinity. As was custom the Daemon used this time to meditate as they did not sleep. A few times they had broken their contemplation to gaze up at the starry night sky. The burning pinpoints of light did help settle the Daemon’s mood somewhat, even though they could recognize none of the celestial bodies overhead. The sound of crying birds broke the Daemon’s reverie and the looked to the Horizon, the first beginnings of sunlight could be seen breaking over the land, signaling the start of a new day.
Rasteva let out another metallic rumble, startling several Gulls that had been using them as a perch into flight. Their cries pierced the air and the Daemon knew that it was time to move on. Standing proved to be somewhat difficult however. Their little ‘swim’ the day before had left the armored figure soaking wet. And while Rasteva did not mind the cold, it still had the expected effect on their wet form, and the Daemon found parts of their body to be covered in ice. Most of it was thin enough to be considered a non issue, but the thickest formations were in many of the metal figure’s joints. Rasteva cursed internally, mentally kicking themselves for allowing such an oversight. The Daemon let out a loud creaking sound as they jerked forward, shards of ice exploding off of their form. Most of it was easily removed, but it still remained in the harder to reach places. Dusting themselves off, Rasteva surmised that the rest would eventually work its way out of their body while they walked, but getting somewhere warmer might help speed the process along. Hobbling away from the shore, the Daemon gazed about idly, hoping to spot a structure that would hint at sapient life. Other beings meant help, and perhaps better knowledge on this strange place. At the very least they would offer conversation and a means of staving off the Daemon’s growing boredom. Only grey skies and howling wind greeted them. Rasteva could only see snow stretching off into the distance, and beyond that dark mountains jutting into the skies like rows of teeth.
Rasteva halted and thought, settling themselves into contemplation before moving in the direction of the peaks.
Truth be told Rasteva did not think that anyone made their home there, but they knew that at least one creature would likely choose to live there. It was a gamble, but provided all went well the Daemon would likely find the answers they so desperately needed.
At the worst, they would be scattered about the mountains in many pieces.
Trudging forward silently, the Daemon drew upon all the knowledge they held on Dragons. Most of them were at least sentient if not close to it. Though prideful and not inclined to help what they deemed lesser creatures, they could at least be reasoned with in some form. Rasteva knew a fair bit of the Dragon language, but the dialects varied greatly from place to place. If the Dragons of this land were sapient, and Rasteva greatly hoped that they were, they would at least know how to speak whatever it was that passed for the Common Language here. But it would better their mood if Rasteva addressed them in their native tongue, to do so was a great sign of respect. Better still it would keep them in a good mood. The Daemon sincerely hoped that if the Dragons here had a language it was one that they already knew, but it was highly doubtful.
The armored figure continued to mull over their thoughts as the walked onward coming to the bottom of a large hill. Crows circled overhead at its crest, and the Daemon began their climb upwards. The going was slow, and several times Rasteva had to use Raumspalter as a walking stick to avoid tumbling back down the hill. Cresting the top, the Daemon could see what had the Crow’s interest so. Lumbering forward, several of the birds cawed loudly and flapped away at their approach, leaving behind a half frozen animal carcass in their haste to escape. The metal figure kneeled before the dead creature, eyeing it intently. The could not tell what manner of creature it was, but it did supply the Daemon with another thought.
When looking to gain a Dragon’s audience it was best to bring a gift. After all one did not waste a Dragon’s time, they were allowed to speak with a Dragon and then possibly allowed to live afterwards.
Dragons were incredibly fickle creatures.
This would prove difficult for them. Rasteva hadn’t the first clue how to capture a live animal for later consumption. Not needing to eat meant never having to hunt. But a freshly slain beast was sure to get the Daemon into the good graces of a Dragon. They did like eating quite a bit, as did any other organic creature. The armored figure really didn’t see the appeal of it really. Eating seemed rather messy, and sometimes organic creatures would go as far as to complain about the taste but continue eating anyway as there wasn’t anything better for them to consume. Other times they would even get sick from eating, an action that they were REQUIRED to do or else they would die.
Rasteva really did not understand why anyone would actively choose to be organic. The negative aspects of it really outweighed any of the good ones in their opinion.
The Daemon slowly got to their feet and gazed out over the plains. There wasn’t much different in the way of scenery, though they could see some movement about a mile off. A herd of antlered beasts meandered across the plains at an even pace. They did not seem to be in a particular hurry, but Rasteva knew that they could bound away faster than the Daemon could ever hope to move. Lumbering forward the Daemon began to make their way down the hill, not climbing so much as sliding to the bottom. The armored figure landed heavily at the base of the hill, the weight of their landing kicking up a cloud of snow. A sudden howl pierced the air, and the Daemon’s helm snapped up at the sound. Training their eyes across the plains, Rasteva could make out a group of small swift forms bolting towards the herd they’d spotted earlier, bodies low to the ground. The howling cry sounded again, and the herd began to move faster obviously fearful of the beasts that pursued them.
Another thought struck Rasteva.
While they could not hunt the beasts they’d spotted, a wolf was more than capable. All the Daemon needed to do was allow the predators to make their kill, and then steal it right from under them.
This was of course provided they could dispose of the wolves and keep themselves in one piece.
All the same, this was the surest way of obtaining a gift for a Dragon.
A Dragon that may or may not be capable of understanding speech.
Who in turn may or may not be completely amicable to a stranger.
For all Rasteva knew it could be rare breed of Vegan Dragon and didn’t eat meat at all.
But that was a bridge the Daemon would have to obliterate when they got to it. All plans were seen out one step at a time and for now they would focus on the first step. Moving towards the noise and commotion at a steady pace, Rasteva hoped that the wolves in this strange place didn’t also have a taste for metal.
And yet for all that they could not find a scrap of information that would possibly help them in their current situation.
Rumbling in mild irritation, the Daemon pulled their thoughts from plumbing the recesses of their own consciousness and turned their attention back to the outside world. Their night had passed in relative peace, with nothing of considerable note happening in their vicinity. As was custom the Daemon used this time to meditate as they did not sleep. A few times they had broken their contemplation to gaze up at the starry night sky. The burning pinpoints of light did help settle the Daemon’s mood somewhat, even though they could recognize none of the celestial bodies overhead. The sound of crying birds broke the Daemon’s reverie and the looked to the Horizon, the first beginnings of sunlight could be seen breaking over the land, signaling the start of a new day.
Rasteva let out another metallic rumble, startling several Gulls that had been using them as a perch into flight. Their cries pierced the air and the Daemon knew that it was time to move on. Standing proved to be somewhat difficult however. Their little ‘swim’ the day before had left the armored figure soaking wet. And while Rasteva did not mind the cold, it still had the expected effect on their wet form, and the Daemon found parts of their body to be covered in ice. Most of it was thin enough to be considered a non issue, but the thickest formations were in many of the metal figure’s joints. Rasteva cursed internally, mentally kicking themselves for allowing such an oversight. The Daemon let out a loud creaking sound as they jerked forward, shards of ice exploding off of their form. Most of it was easily removed, but it still remained in the harder to reach places. Dusting themselves off, Rasteva surmised that the rest would eventually work its way out of their body while they walked, but getting somewhere warmer might help speed the process along. Hobbling away from the shore, the Daemon gazed about idly, hoping to spot a structure that would hint at sapient life. Other beings meant help, and perhaps better knowledge on this strange place. At the very least they would offer conversation and a means of staving off the Daemon’s growing boredom. Only grey skies and howling wind greeted them. Rasteva could only see snow stretching off into the distance, and beyond that dark mountains jutting into the skies like rows of teeth.
Rasteva halted and thought, settling themselves into contemplation before moving in the direction of the peaks.
Truth be told Rasteva did not think that anyone made their home there, but they knew that at least one creature would likely choose to live there. It was a gamble, but provided all went well the Daemon would likely find the answers they so desperately needed.
At the worst, they would be scattered about the mountains in many pieces.
Trudging forward silently, the Daemon drew upon all the knowledge they held on Dragons. Most of them were at least sentient if not close to it. Though prideful and not inclined to help what they deemed lesser creatures, they could at least be reasoned with in some form. Rasteva knew a fair bit of the Dragon language, but the dialects varied greatly from place to place. If the Dragons of this land were sapient, and Rasteva greatly hoped that they were, they would at least know how to speak whatever it was that passed for the Common Language here. But it would better their mood if Rasteva addressed them in their native tongue, to do so was a great sign of respect. Better still it would keep them in a good mood. The Daemon sincerely hoped that if the Dragons here had a language it was one that they already knew, but it was highly doubtful.
The armored figure continued to mull over their thoughts as the walked onward coming to the bottom of a large hill. Crows circled overhead at its crest, and the Daemon began their climb upwards. The going was slow, and several times Rasteva had to use Raumspalter as a walking stick to avoid tumbling back down the hill. Cresting the top, the Daemon could see what had the Crow’s interest so. Lumbering forward, several of the birds cawed loudly and flapped away at their approach, leaving behind a half frozen animal carcass in their haste to escape. The metal figure kneeled before the dead creature, eyeing it intently. The could not tell what manner of creature it was, but it did supply the Daemon with another thought.
When looking to gain a Dragon’s audience it was best to bring a gift. After all one did not waste a Dragon’s time, they were allowed to speak with a Dragon and then possibly allowed to live afterwards.
Dragons were incredibly fickle creatures.
This would prove difficult for them. Rasteva hadn’t the first clue how to capture a live animal for later consumption. Not needing to eat meant never having to hunt. But a freshly slain beast was sure to get the Daemon into the good graces of a Dragon. They did like eating quite a bit, as did any other organic creature. The armored figure really didn’t see the appeal of it really. Eating seemed rather messy, and sometimes organic creatures would go as far as to complain about the taste but continue eating anyway as there wasn’t anything better for them to consume. Other times they would even get sick from eating, an action that they were REQUIRED to do or else they would die.
Rasteva really did not understand why anyone would actively choose to be organic. The negative aspects of it really outweighed any of the good ones in their opinion.
The Daemon slowly got to their feet and gazed out over the plains. There wasn’t much different in the way of scenery, though they could see some movement about a mile off. A herd of antlered beasts meandered across the plains at an even pace. They did not seem to be in a particular hurry, but Rasteva knew that they could bound away faster than the Daemon could ever hope to move. Lumbering forward the Daemon began to make their way down the hill, not climbing so much as sliding to the bottom. The armored figure landed heavily at the base of the hill, the weight of their landing kicking up a cloud of snow. A sudden howl pierced the air, and the Daemon’s helm snapped up at the sound. Training their eyes across the plains, Rasteva could make out a group of small swift forms bolting towards the herd they’d spotted earlier, bodies low to the ground. The howling cry sounded again, and the herd began to move faster obviously fearful of the beasts that pursued them.
Another thought struck Rasteva.
While they could not hunt the beasts they’d spotted, a wolf was more than capable. All the Daemon needed to do was allow the predators to make their kill, and then steal it right from under them.
This was of course provided they could dispose of the wolves and keep themselves in one piece.
All the same, this was the surest way of obtaining a gift for a Dragon.
A Dragon that may or may not be capable of understanding speech.
Who in turn may or may not be completely amicable to a stranger.
For all Rasteva knew it could be rare breed of Vegan Dragon and didn’t eat meat at all.
But that was a bridge the Daemon would have to obliterate when they got to it. All plans were seen out one step at a time and for now they would focus on the first step. Moving towards the noise and commotion at a steady pace, Rasteva hoped that the wolves in this strange place didn’t also have a taste for metal.
Everybody makes mistakes. Mine was bothering to get out of bed this morning.