[closed] Imagine: Dragons!

[revise]

WHO: Adrasteia, Edgard, Miriam, Derrica, Valerius
WHAT: Hey kid wanna see a dead dragon.
WHEN: Now
WHERE: Outside Tantervale
NOTES: A dead dragon; potential gore warning? Will update and/or mark subject lines as necessary. OOC Mission Info

Leandra Spada had happily gone over the effects of aging on a dragon in great detail. And to the Rivaini adventuress' credit, she hadn't been wrong. The dragon's flight patterns had become quite regular, and at rather low altitude making it fairly easy to track once they'd been briefed to look for truncated treetops and to seek out larger clearings where a slightly less coordinated animal might wish to make a heavy landing. And it had been slower, and had appeared to suffer from poor vision. And it had technically seemed to preferred lashing with tail and wing and claw as opposed to spitting great gouts of flame at them.

But in Miriam's extremely nonprofessional opinion:

"I feel our consultant may have downplayed some of the challenges."

This, all deadpan as she beats the last smoldering embers out of her coat. The ice wall hastily thrown up to defend against the dying animal's last fiery (literally) resistance to their assault is half melted. The ground underfoot and directly before the still warm corpse of the beast is slowly being turned into mud from it.

Does everyone still have all their parts?

Comments

[tender]

"Oh, Adrasteia, don't," is kneejerk, a little lament as Derrica raises her attention from Edgard's hands. The spell is finished, the chill of softly blown breath over his palms and the glow of her own hands beneath Edgard's chasing away the red-scorched skin and barely-formed blisters.

And the interjection clearly sparks some immediate self-consciousness once she catches up with herself and considers it at length. Straightening, she hurries over to Miriam to examine the newly-bared arm with cool, careful fingers.

Clearing her throat, without looking up from Miriam's arm, she questions, "Do you think we have anything big enough in Kirkwall to transport it?"

[muckspout]

Edgard starts a little at the hand brought down on his shoulder, but gives a shaky grin at Valerius. He nods his thanks to Derrica and then answers her question,

"Maybe a bunch of griffons and...rope?" Edgard is probably not to whom she was directing the question. "Rope and a really big blanket?"

He makes eye contact with Adrasteia, "Can cut it if you like. Make no promises to be good at it though." Edgard makes little cutting motions with his fore and middle finger.

[revise]

"I don't know that the Gallows' griffons could lift it either. Not in one piece, anyway."

The arm, tender under Derrica's cool touch, is bright red and blistering but it's one of those proximity scorchings moreso than it is a true burn. So long as it's being healed, Miriam avoids a direct examination of it (Gross). She does however give Derrica an appreciative sidelong look.

[kantikoy]

"But it's so long," Adrasteia whines a little, "and so gross, now." A light glare in the direction of the back of Valerius' head at that statement; she pulls a face as she removes some viscera from her braids. "But you're probably right. I've never had short hair, I don't know that I'd know what to do with it."

Edgard gets a smile. "I'll have to think on it further. As far as the corpse of this dragon goes, perhaps if we were to separate out the important organs and other parts amongst several of the beasts? Would that work?"