Day 1
Early Morning
Mountains Far West of Whiteriver, the Nomad Lands

The high, thin air was crisp and fresh as the shimmering metallic platinum
forearm came down with a thump over the huge man's torso. With a grunt, he
opened his eyes just a bit to catch the red orange fire of the rising sun
glinting off those mirrored scales.

"Get off me you great lump of dragon" he grumbled, gently pushing off the
forearm and standing. He stretched for a moment, and looked over the haze
of the valley below their campsite, still damp and cool with the  new
morning.

<<You oaf, you woke me up...And you smell...>> the dragon's liquid
lavender eyes opening and huge mouth stretching in a most draconic yawn
before offering a disdainful sniff in the large barbarian's direction.

Oldreth offered no response, but instead gathered up his bow and arrows,
not bothering with a shirt or tunic, and scrambled with lumbering grace
down the rocky escarpment. Wintermoon watched the man go, and sighed.

It had been many, many weeks since they'd left Whiteriver, and the large
platinum dragon could still feel the pain from her rider. It had driven
them west, into the Nomad Lands, and further, while Oldreth had silently
tried to come ti terms with what he had done. Wintermoon could only watch,
and comfort the man who shared her heart, and follow where he led until he
found the answers he sought.

Wintermoon missed the warren, but it was better for them to have gone,
fleeing from the pain of the brief madness that had possessed her rider.
It was an unpleasant time for both rider and dragon, as they shared the
emotions and images of the horrible things that had passed.

Oldreth on the other hand, had kept it all inside, and as he nearly
silently traversed the faint game trail, his thoughts went back to
Merissa, the Warren lady of Whiteriver, and it brought a smile. Spotting
some sign of game ahead, he crouched, checking the spoor and track, then
ducking quietly into the bush. The little barbarian girl, Xanthia, from
the medical ward, so curious about her heritage, and with a temper to
match that fiery red hair. He chuckled softly as he crawled in near
silence through the brush to the edge of a small stream.

With Whiteriver on his mind, he could scarcely avoid remembering the bad
there too, and it caused his aim to waver just a bit as he nocked an arrow
and pulled back the bow, sighting on a seven point buck drinking from the
clean trickle of water. He lowered his bow just a fraction as he fought
for control, the flood gates opening in his mind and filling him with a
torrent of images and emotions that he repressed.

He felt the arrows hit him, he felt the blades cut into his body. He
remembered the scattered badies at the hatching ground, and the body of a
little girl, smothered to death, her eyes wide and trusting. He remembered
Xanthia, feral, afraid, and sobbing, raped by a fanatic. Then, as suddenly
as the pain started, it ended, with a series of images that were always
the hardest for him to bear. Hour after hour of screaming, blood, burning
flesh, and the tortured body of a religious fanatic left to die, crucified
at the crossroads.

Oldreth squeezed his eyes closed, and dug his nails into the hard
wood of the bow, as he stifled a small sound of pain. He opened his eyes
and ignored the tears that came down his cheeks and drew the bow back,
sighting on the buck and letting the arrow fly. Straight and true, the
arrow sped, burying itself deep hi the animal's body, just behind the
shoulder. The animal reared and gave a suprised grunt, managing only a few
steps upstream before it fell.

The large barbarian moved to the animal's side, and saying a silent
thanks to the gods for the beast's sacrifice, slung his bow and hefted
the large carcass over his shoulders and started back up the rocky slope
to the ledge where they'd camped.

"Breakfast is ready..." he announced to the preening platinum bragon.

Wintermoon gave a draconic grin, << Venison again?>>

Oldreth snorted, "You don't have to eat it...You're getting fat anyway.
What've you been doing? Sneaking out and eating people's horses?"

The shiney queen gave an indignant harumph, <<Well I never...>>

Oldreth poked the coals of the camp fire, stirring it to life as well, and
adding some wood to it. He smiled warmly at the dragon who was his best
friend, despite their incessant bickering. Hacking off a haunch of the
carcass, he dragged the remainder over to Wintermoon and ran a spit
through the haunch, putting it over the fire to roast.

<<You were thinking about it again...>> observed the dragon gently.

Oldreth shrugged a shoulder, "It'll pass..."

<<You can't run away forever Oldreth...>>

The blonde barbarian sighed, "I'm going to go take a bath, don't gulp your
food, you'll get sick, and for the record, there's nothing more disgusting
than dragon vomit."

With that, he made his way back down to the stream with clean clothes. The
water was icey, almost cold enough to freeze the nightmares out of his
mind as he bathed. After a thorogh once over of his body, he unwrapped a
chunk of soap from a cloth bag, and washed his hair, soaping all over,
then rinsing. Shivering, he made his way to shore and shook, much loke an
animal might to get dry, and dressed in his  clean clothes. Towels were
another luxury he missed. He carefully combed his wet hair back and wrung
it out before tying it back in a long pony tail. Finally, after tugging on
his knee high boots over his leather breeches, he started back up the
rocks.


Wintermoon eyed him speculatively, <<You're wearing the linen shirt?>>

Oldreth quirked a brow, "Yes...It's the best one I have. Why?"

<<Is today something special? Are you going to find a woman to lay with?>>

The barbarian chuckled, checking the roasting meat, "No...I just
thought...Maybe we could go back to Whiteriver...For a visit."

Lavender eyes fixed on him, eyeing him speculatively, <<Really?>>

Oldreth shrugged, "That was my plan..."

The large dragon nodded quietly, <<As you wish my rider>>

Oldreth smiled and slipped his arms around the dragon's neck and squeezed
gently, resting his head against her shoulder, "You mean so much to me
Winter...Thanks for being here for me..."

Wintermoon craned her head down to nuzzle the large man gently, <<You
would do no less for me.>>

He gently disengaged after a moment and smiled, "Let's eat."

---

Day 1
Mid-Afternoon

Astride Wintermoon, Oldreth adjusted his seat, shifting her ever so
slightly as they flew over the mountains. He reached out and patted
Wintermoon's neck, "Now my dear...", and with that, the world froze, went
black with an icy coolness, then the sky changed.

As they circled, Oldreth looked below at the scurry of activity that was
Whiteriver Warren. He thought to Wintermoon, <<We're back...>>

Wintermoon trumpeted her happiness, and began to circle down to the field,
broadcasting to any who might be listening, "Wintermoon and her rider
Oldreth have arrived...>>

Below, people cleared out of the way as the huge metallic platinum dragon
descended, bearing her nearly seven foot tall rider.


---
Respectfully,
Rob

NRPG: Hello :)

----
Rob Hines Jr.
Systems Administrator

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