Chronicles of a Lost Blade: The Abducted Rider (Patreon)

A short story for All the King’s Men

Written by Arkant (KRL)

Arkant stirred at the sound of raindrops pattering on leaves above him.  Cold air, heavy with the scent of wet earth, filled his nostrils.  The light drizzle began as the morning sun crept over the horizon; the dense green foliage of the tree he sheltered beneath for the night kept him dry.

“Rain,” he muttered.  A numb, tingling pain near his shoulder-blades reminded him of the scars he bore, every time the rain came.  And yet, he had a fondness for these grey, misty mornings.

The ebony-scaled dragonkin stood and stretched his nine-foot frame with a yawn.  Long, black hair swayed gently as he rolled his neck side to side.

“I need to stop sleeping in my armor,” he grumbled to himself as he brushed debris off of his white coat and green pants, and plucked a few twigs from his traveling blanket.  The joints of his black breastplate creaked as he tidied up.

After folding the blanket and placing it in his backpack, he reached an ebon-clawed hand into the satchel on his hip, rummaging a bit before procuring a soft leather bundle.  Arkant absent-mindedly tugged at the strings on the bundle with his claws as he sleepily gazed through the misty treeline toward the road ahead.  His bright, green eyes mirrored the verdant green surroundings which blended together with low, grey clouds and misty rain in the distance.  A pang of hunger snapped him out of his groggy haze.

Another yawn escaped his maw as he pulled a generous strip of pemmican from the leather bundle.  The mixture of fat, meat, and dried berries provided little flavor, but it would at least give him the fuel he needed to start the next leg of his mission.  Returning the bundle to his satchel, Arkant then pulled out a map and studied his location; a small circle on the map suggested his target could be reached in a few hours on foot.  He had been tracking a small band of particularly unsavory miscreants: a Lomino and his gang.  Kurroz, considered an upstart in the criminal networks, had acquired a victim with a deep spiritwell to siphon energy from, which could be used to grant clients an unparalleled, euphoric high.  Not more than a day ago, an information dealer in a nearby village had marked the location on Arkant’s map: some backwoods, long-abandoned estate off the main roads.  Apparently, the Border Legion didn’t patrol the route that ran to the estate, as it was little more than a game trail these days.

Arkant stowed the map and secured his greatsword on his back before quickly covering any traces of his presence beneath the tree and setting off deeper into the woods.  While he was less than pleased about it, he had grown accustomed to traversing the wilderness along the Disputed Lands and the Dalishlands.  He was not on bad terms with the Bordermen, but he was still considered a suspicious character in these parts.  It would be completely reasonable for a furkin to be suspicious of a tall Saurian with a large sword strapped to his back.

While it was slow-going through the underbrush and moist earth, Arkant’s journey was uneventful as he followed the outskirts of the game trail.  He was careful to remain unseen, should his mark be smart enough to set up a patrol, but that did not appear to be a necessity in this case.  After a sharp bend, the path opened into a large clearing – if one could call the tangle of tall grass, bushes, and fallen trees a clearing.  The only sign of anything unnatural was the rusted iron gate jutting out from stone walls covered in thick sheets of ivy.  Rather, to say that it was a stone wall would be an assumption, as one would have to look carefully to see that there was in fact masonry beneath the vegetation.  Two bored-looking guards sat on either side of the gate: a scraggly-looking, lanky cat of mixed breeds and an equally unpleasant looking mutt.  Arkant stepped out of the brush and into the clearing.

“What the fuck, I thought you could smell anyone coming a mile away,” the cat hissed.  Both guards immediately stood, hands moving to their swords as he approached.  The mutt let out a low growl as Arkant walked right up to them.

“Excuse me, I seem to be lost,” he started. “Can you tell me where –”

The guards drew their swords and moved to swing at the dragon, but since he towered nearly four feet over the pair, Arkant simply grabbed each by the head and smashed them together.  Swords and limp bodies fell to the ground without any further struggle.

“Rude.”

His white coat fluttered past the pair of guards as he stepped over them.  Beyond the gate, Arkant could see the outline of a small mansion a short sprint away, past a cluster of bushes and a large pile of dirt.

The gate screeched in protest as he flung it open and broke into a sprint.  As Arkant rounded the dirt pile, he tripped over a kobold.  Momentum sent him sprawling over the diminutive reptite, landing him face down in a semi-circle of kobolds that were until now focused on a set of dice and a few small piles of coins.

The lizardkin hissed and growled as they drew their weapons.  Before they could even think of attacking, however, a wave of dread washed over them as the group collectively recognized the figure.  To the kobolds, the world seemed to grow dark and the atmosphere heavy.  As the figure before them climbed to his feet, it was as if a wall of flames rose with him.  This was someone they revered and instinctively knew to fear.

“Heya fellas,” Arkant said, a bit surprised.

One of the kobolds pissed herself on the spot.  Arkant started to raise a hand in greeting, but his sudden movement was all it took: the little reptites shrieked in terror as they scrambled over each other and run away.

“Okay then,” Arkant muttered as he turned to face the mansion.  A distinct scent of urine and earth permeated the air; a cloud of dirt kicked up by the fleeing kobolds on the ruined forecourt slowly drifted away.

“What the fuck is going on out here,” an angry grey rat shrieked as the mansion doors violently swung open.  After staring at the dragon for a moment as the dust cloud dissipated, he yelled: “Ozo, grab this asshole!”

A shuffling sound compelled Arkant to turn around.  Before he could react, the pile of dirt he had passed by grappled him in a powerful bear hug.  He was stunned.  That hadn’t been a pile of dirt at all: it was a massive, sleeping bear.

“What?” Arkant grunted  as he tensed his muscles, pushing back against the bear’s crushing grip. “Not a dirt pile,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Now then, crush that –” the rat stopped mid-sentence.  “Damnit, Ozo, why are you naked again?”

“Wut?” the dirt-caked bear grunted as he tilted his head to the side.  “I likes sleepin’ nat-u-ral after I cornhole me some kobold ass.”  The bear thrust his hips as he flaunted his flopping nakedness.

Arkant frowned at the bear’s admission.  The blue-robed rat let out a loud sigh as he slapped his forehead with his hand.  Before he could say anything further, a tall figure stepped out onto the porch of the mansion: a muscular dragonborn male, clad in black armor.  Green scales with yellow and black splotches shimmered in the breaking sunlight as the new figure lazily scratched at his spikey, red hair.  A pair of horns on his head curved up and forward, as if to portray a menacing intent.

“What’s going on, Kurroz?” the green-scaled figure managed to get out through a yawn.

“What’s going on?” Kurroz questioned mockingly.  “This scaly bastard scared off all the kobolds!  And so much for those idiots you posted at the gate!”

“Huh?” The green-scaled figure questioned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  Black slits ringed with yellow narrowed as he focused his vision on the bear’s dark-haired prisoner.

Arkant turned as far as he could to see the newcomer, still straining to keep the bear from crushing him.  The groggy dragonborn shook his head in disbelief as the identity of the detainee dawned on him.

“Is that… Arkant Monanza,” he pondered and blinked.  “Oh shit! That’s Arkant the Wingless!  Ozo, crush him now, before he melts your – ” the dragonborn’s shout was cut off.  As if on cue, Arkant released a blast of white energy from his mouth, vaporizing the bear’s face.

“– face off...”

The bear’s arms went limp, dropping Arkant as the corpse fell backward.  The scent of ozone, charred flesh, and burning fur filled the air.

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, SOLKA?” the grey rat shrieked.

“He’s a dragonkin,” the Solka replied coldly.  “And a former member of the Invincible Dragon Blades.”  Solka spat on the ground.  “It’s time to pack up.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Arkant said coldly as he picked up his sword and turned to face the pair.  “Solka Vang,” Arkant spoke as a gust of wind kicked up his long hair and coat.  “I knew you had turned to unsavory practices, but to find you working for a Lomino?  Now I know why these scum were able to abduct her.”  The dragonkin raised his sword in one hand, pointing directly at Solka.  “Where is Lady Keladry?”

“Working for?” Solka laughed.  “This is my operation.”

“Rrrrgh, enough!” the rat shrieked.  “Fullow, shoot this prick!”

A brown hare kicked open the door to the second-floor balcony and leapt into position, taking aim with a longbow.  Before he could loose his arrow, a pair of daggers found their way into his throat and forehead.  The force of the impact knocked the hare on his back in a spray of blood.

“What the fuck,” Kurroz squeaked, taking a step back.

“Any more interruptions?” Arkant asked coldly as he walked toward the rat.

“Just me,” Solka said grimly as he drew a pair of swords and stepped between the dragonkin and the rat.  “I may only be dragonborn, but I’ll still kick your highborn ass.”

The dragonborn leapt at Arkant, unleashing a flurry of slashes intended to push him back and prevent him from launching his own offensive.  Arkant bore the assault, blocking the strikes with his greatsword.  Solka continued his advance, alternating between thrusts and slashes, until one of his thrusts broke through, narrowly missing Arkant’s shoulder.  The next swing was aimed at the dragonkin’s throat, but instead clanged against the metal of his pauldron.  Arkant swiftly retaliated with a left hook to Solka’s snout, followed by a volley of his own strikes.

Arkant’s blade crashed like thunder against Solka’s swords as he struggled to block and parry the assault.  Each strike left his swords ringing from the force, until he lost his grip on one and the blade was sent spinning on the stone pavement beyond.  As Arkant brought his sword around for another swing, Solka launched himself shoulder-first into the dragonkin.  The move was a well-practiced grapple intended to disarm attackers, particularly those favoring great-weapons.  As Solka twisted his body in an effort to wrench the sword free from his grasp, Arkant swung his tail around and twisted his body, shifting the momentum of the strike in his favor.  Solka was tossed to the ground, kicking up another cloud of dust as he slid on his back.  Arkant knew that technique and its counter well; it was one of the many combat techniques Dragon Blades drilled.

As Arkant brought his sword around to attack, he instinctively spun around and side-stepped an oncoming blast of fire.  Seeing his boss in danger, Kurroz launched an offensive spell in hopes of catching the dragonkin off-guard.  Before the rat could fire off another spell, Arkant quickly inhaled and retaliated with a blast of his dragon breath.  A beam of burning white energy erupted from Arkant’s mouth and exploded just in front of the Lomino.  The air shimmered momentarily around Kurroz as a magical barrier absorbed the blast.

“That little trick won’t work on me,” the rat sneered back at him.  Taking advantage of the moment, Kurroz put his hands together and chanted: “Darkness the consumer, lash this blood of the slain.  I curse you! Crimson death!”

The Lomino’s magic tore streams of blood from the nearby bear’s corpse.  Sharp, red tendrils took shape in the air as he chittered maliciously.  Kurroz began furiously clawing at the air and the blood moved as he did.  Crimson tendrils slashed at Arkant and lashed the earth as he dodged and deflected them with his sword.  Arkant focused as he spun his sword, pushing quintessence into the blade; the black pattern along its spine animated, as if it were coated in black flames.  As the Kurroz began another barrage of attacks, Arkant struck back at the tendrils, intentionally cutting at them instead of parrying.  Each tendril cut by his blade lost shape and splattered on the ground.

“Cute,” Kurroz sneered; “try countering this spell.”  As the rat began to chant another spell, a throwing dagger pierced his left eye, interrupting him.

“Counterspell,” Arkant said dryly.

The Lomino screeched in pain and anger as he tore at his eye.  Blood gushed from the wound as he pulled the blade free.  Arkant quickly focused his quintessence into his muscles, empowering them as he leapt forward, covering the distance between the pair in a single leap.  As the dragonkin swung his greatsword down, Solka appeared in front of the rat, blocking an attack that would have cut him in two.  Judging by the speed at which he intercepted the blow, it was clear that he too had augmented his physical prowess with quintessence.

Solka used his own brute strength to push forward against the blade; Arkant’s clawed toes dug furrows into the soil as the dragonborn forced him back.  As Arkant pushed back with his sword, Solka let the blade slide away and spun around the dragonkin, slashing the unarmored side of his leg.  Arkant gritted his teeth as a splash of vermillion hit the earth; Solka’s next strike was aimed at his back.

Without hesitating, Arkant activated one of the runes on his left gauntlet as he whipped his hand behind his back.  A fiery explosion ripped through the air, blasting Solka onto his back some feet away.  Before Arkant could make another move, Kurroz leapt on him, driving his own throwing dagger into his left shoulder, between neck and pauldron.  Arkant roared in anger before chomping down on the rat’s arm and yanking him off.

With one hand, the enraged dragonkin switched his grip on his sword and stabbed at the rat crumpled at his feet.  Before the blade could meet its mark, Solka slammed his shoulder into Arkant, sending him rolling on the ground.  As Arkant used the momentum to roll to his feet, Solka blew a gout of blood-red flames at him as he snatched up the rat.  The dragonbreath forced Arkant to leap back as his foe broke into a full sprint at a preternatural speed.

“He always knew when to run away,” Arkant growled as he pulled the dagger out of his shoulder.  Long, black hair fell around his face as he took in a deep breath and stood up.  There was no point in giving chase; his mission was only to recover Lady Keladry, not put down a former comrade.  Arkant hastily bandaged his wounds before turning toward the building’s entrance.  His white coat fluttered as he entered the dilapidated foyer of the mansion.

“Lady Greenrivers,” he called out. “Can you hear me? Can you call out to me?”

No answer.  Collapsed sections of the building and obvious signs of traps gave Arkant pause.  Searching the mansion would be treacherous, if not frustratingly time consuming.

“Where would they hide her,” he pondered. “Upstairs seems too obvious, but then again so does the cellar…”

As he considered the options before him, something caught his eye.  Years of neglect left the floors covered in dirt and dust, but despite the obvious signs of foot traffic leading up and down the halls and stairway, one trail stood out: a wide swath of dust cleared away, as if something had been dragged off through a door to the right.

Arkant stepped cautiously through the door leading into the kitchen.  Signs of disrepair, neglect, and careless abuse marred the countertops, brick oven, and iron stove.  Racks for spices and dried herbs were collapsed and barren.  It did not appear that the gang had occupied the estate for long, but it was apparent they had made themselves familiar with the facilities.  The stench of decay, mold, and dust filled the kitchen, competing fiercely with the pathetic fire smoking in the decrepit hearth.

“Probably planned to hole-up for the winter or set up shop,” Arkant thought to himself.  As he stepped over piles of discarded bones and other refuse, he noted a stairway leading to what was likely the cellar.  “Light my way,” Arkant whispered, invoking a simple light spell on his left gauntlet.

The white coated figure disappeared into the cellar’s depths, heavy footfalls echoing on stone stairs.  As he descended, something ragged, clinging to a broken wooden railing, caught his eye.  Light from his gauntlet revealed a scrap of purple and gold cloth.  The material was soft and silken to the touch; definitely not something the new squatters would wear, and too fresh to belong to the original inhabitants.

Arkant raised his gauntlet higher as he descended the remaining stairs.  Light poured from it, illuminating much of the room as he reached the bottom.  Against the far wall, just out of reach of his light, a shadowy figure in a chair caught his attention.

“Lady Greenrivers? He asked, cautiously stepping toward.  His light revealed a figure slumped over in an old, heavy oaken chair; arms and waist bound by metal chains.  A dragonborn woman with pale blue scales sat before him, unmoving.  Blue and green hair, matted and dirty, clung to the sides of her face.  Arkant stood still for several moments.  Her breathing was faint and slow, as if in a deep sleep.

“Keladry,” he whispered as he bent forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

No response.

Arkant stood up; the clacking of his armor broke the silence of the room as he raised an arm once more to illuminate the surrounding area.  A nearby table gave him the answer he sought: vials, bottles, and syringes cluttered about.  Tools of a Lomino; drugs and implements to keep their guests subdued.  From the look of things, Kurroz must have administered a dose recently.

Suppressing the rage building up within him, Arkant took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  While the chains restraining the dragoness may have been sufficient to keep her subdued in combination with the drugs, under the dragonkin’s grasp they peeled apart like cornhusks.

“Let’s get you home,” he whispered as he hoisted the unconscious woman over his shoulder.

The trek out of the mansion and away from the estate was without incident.  Rather than returning the way he came, Arkant cut through the woods toward another main road.  As he made his way through the forest, he mused about the encounter.  Solka seemed to have truly run off without intent to ambush; he must have prioritized safeguarding his investment.  Solka was a fresh-made member of the Dragon Blades when he fought in the Battle of Herald’s Keep, but knowing his less-than-honorable proclivities even then, it was no stretch of the imagination for him to start a life of crime.  It may have been that their excommunication served as a sort of twisted justification.  However, it did seem unusual to Arkant that he chose to work alongside furkin, rather than preying on them directly.  Perhaps Solka wasn’t as big a fool as he had once assumed.

As Arkant pushed through the last bit of overgrowth along a game trail and onto the main road, he found himself quickly surrounded by a ring of swords and bows trained on him; angry, furry faces behind each.  The colors and emblems of the Border Legion Scouts were unmistakable.

“Well if it isn’t the Lost Blade,” a strong, feminine voice spoke out.  Her disdain was palpable.

“Captain Kellen, you grace me with such merry welcome,” Arkant replied.

“What are you doing out here, sellsword?”  A petite, tawny serval demanded as she pushed past the soldiers surrounding the mercenary.

“Librarium business, my lady,” Arkant nodded with respectful sincerity.

“And what does that make her?” The brown-haired woman motioned with her chin, hand resting on the pommel of her sword.  She knew of the dragonkin that stood before her, but she did not trust him.

“Librarium business,” Arkant said flatly.  “I assume you’re aware of abductions that have occurred recently?”

“We’ve heard complaints from the civilians, but nothing that would concern the Legion,” the Captain said plainly as she motioned her soldiers at ease.

“I would not expect to bother you further then, but perhaps I can share a bit of information,” Arkant tilted his head downward slightly, bright green eyes meeting the Captain’s pale blues.  “A Lomino set up shop in an abandoned estate nearby.  The gang have been dealt with, but the Lomino fled with his partner: a former Dragon Blade by the name of Solka Vang.”

“Great, another one of you scaly assholes running free in my lands,” the Captain huffed.

“We fought and he fled before I could kill him or his pet rat,” Arkant shook his head and frowned.

“Whatever,” Captain Kellen waved her hand as she turned, dismissing the dragonkin.  Her red scarf flitted behind her as she walked away.  The scouts turned and followed their captain as she muttered curses about lizards and reports.

Arkant let out a sigh of relief once the soldiers were out of earshot.  Soven Kellen was a veteran of the Battle of Herald’s Keep.  If she had recognized Keladry, the encounter could have turned violent.  The Dragon Riders were responsible for countless Legion deaths; having a former rider in the Captain’s presence would be disastrous.  The late Saurian King’s treachery would never be forgiven by the Dalish and the Border Legion.  At the very least, Soven trusted Sir Adolyn’s judgment of Arkant enough to not detain him for further questioning or worse.

Adjusting the still-unconscious Keladry on his shoulder, Arkant continued on the path before him.  The nearest village with an inn was a few hours away.

The trek to the village was long and dull.  While Saurians were not necessarily a rarity in the Borderlands, their presence was not always tolerated.  As the mercenary made his way through the village, along rough-cobbled streets and past a few market stalls, he was met with a variety of reactions.  Some stared; others ducked into doorways or pretended the dragonkin did not exist.  It was not the first time he’d been through this particular village, but that made him no less a stranger.

The inn Arkant sought was slightly off the main drag: The Serpent and The Cavern.  The inn was a two-story structure with an attached pub commonly patronized by adventurers, information brokers, and less-than-savory characters; standard fare for such a local.  The Innkeeper was not exactly happy about his new guests, but a few extra coins changed his mind.  A few more would buy the Innkeep’s silence on the nature of his guests.

Arkant carried his ward up the stairs and into their lodging.  The room itself was sparse: a glass-pane window and bare walls; a simple wood-frame bed along the wall and plain wooden chair and table in the far corner.  A candle-holder with half-melted candle rested on the center of the barren table.  The bed, while better than sleeping against a tree, would provide minimal comfort.

Arkant gently placed the still-unconscious woman on the bed.  After covering her with a blanket, he unfastened his armor and settled into the chair without bothering to remove his coat.  With a deep sigh he leaned back and lit the candle with a quintessence-fueled flame from his fingertip; little more than a parlor trick, but useful nonetheless.  As he sat in the dim light, Arkant watched Keladry’s gentle breathing.

“The drugs should be wearing off by now,” he thought to himself.  “Hopefully she will not suffer any lasting effects…”

A gentle knock at the door brought Arkant back to the reality of the dimly lit room.  He closed the distance from the chair to the door in a quick stride, opening it a crack.  He was greeted by a voluptuous fox with raven hair.  Her skirt was far too short and her generous cleavage threatened to spill out of her tight, deep-cut blouse.  White stockings clung tightly to her thick thighs.

“The wine and cold dinner platter you requested, sir,” the vixen said sheepishly, shooting a glance at the dragonkin’s eyes before staring at the floor.

“Are there any other… Services, you might require?”

“No. Thank you,” Arkant responded after a brief pause. He took the platter and tipped the maid before quietly closing the door.  Had it not been for his present company, he probably would have indulged in her carnal offering.  The long day was wearing on him, and little was more comforting than sharing a bed with a warm body.  In the end, he managed only a few bites of food and a long draught of wine before he settled back into the chair and closed his eyes.

The first rays of the morning sun were just beginning to peek over the horizon when Arkant was awakened by the sound of shifting fabric and a low groan.  He instinctively shot out of his chair, claws and a concealed dagger at the ready in a defensive stance.  It took a moment for the fog of sleep to lift enough for him to realize the sounds had originated from the bed.

“Do you have to make so much damned noise,” a soft, yet mature woman’s voice croaked from the bed.  Keladry groaned again as she sat up, clutching her brow.

“It seems I let my guard down,” Arkant sighed as he sheathed his dagger and slid back into the chair.

Keladry frowned as she stared at him. “Not something I would expect from a Dragon Blade,” she said with a yawn.

“Excommunicated,” Arkant added dryly.  “And no, I suppose not,” Arkant shook his head. “You could say it had been a long day.”

“Don’t let it happen again... The Queen would be hurt if she lost either of us.”  Keladry wore a sad expression as she said this, before waving her hand dismissively.  “I assume she was the one who petitioned my rescue from one of her former Blades.”

“True.  While the Librarium offered a substantial reward, Her Highness requested that I investigate.  She suspected that a Saurian was involved.  And like always, she was correct.”

“Ever the loyal subject,” the dragoness shook her head with a sigh.  “I mean really, Ark, you took the fall all those years ago, and yet you still follow her command.”

“Her heart is in the right place,” Arkant sighed as he leaned back in the chair.  “She wants what we want: lasting peace.”

“There’s more to life than that,” Keladry breathed deeply as she sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Arkant’s knee.  “When will you live your life for yourself?”

Arkant stared at the door ahead of him for a moment, letting the silence speak for him.  Bright rays of gold were beginning to creep in through the window, illuminating motes of dust in the room.

“We should probably head out soon,” Arkant said softly.  “And find more efficient means of travel.”

With a sharp sigh, Keladry stood and took a swig from the bottle of wine on the table.  Arkant yawned and stretched before joining his companion for a quick meal.

After some negotiations, exchange of coins, and a promise to provide protection, the pair gained passage on a trade caravan headed into the lands of Lioncourt.  The caravan would ultimately stop in the city of Esthar.  The Librarium campus, or Olcadan, which the city was built around, was where Keladry worked and lived.

The journey to the town was long, uncomfortably bumpy, and nearly uneventful.  Arkant was somewhat disappointed when the only group of bandits that threatened the caravan turned tail as soon as they caught sight of him.

“You seem to have a reputation around here,” Keladry commented with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, but not with the right folks,” he shrugged.

As the caravan made its way into the verdant valley where Esthar lay, Keladry appeared distracted.  While she had not made much conversation throughout most of the journey, she seemed more distant than ever.

“Is everything alright, my lady?”  Arkant queried.  “We are nearly home.”

“I,” Keladry started and then paused.  “Do not misunderstand; I am happy and relieved, but I am not feeling quite prepared to return to the Olcadan just yet.”

Arkant nodded.  She had been through a traumatic enough experience; he would not push her if she did not wish to return just yet.

The rough terrain of the valley trail smoothed as the caravan reached the main road into the city.  The perfectly paved roads were only the first sign of Esthar’s beauty and wealth.  The walls protecting the city were immaculate stonework; parapets were manned by a professional defense force not seen in most towns.  The checkpoint at the gate was thorough, verifying persons and reasons for entry, as well as checking for contraband goods both in the wagons and on individuals.  As the caravan stopped in the queue for wagons to enter the city, the pair of dragons disembarked and made their way to the foot gate.

“Welcome home, Lady Greenrivers, Sir Arkant,” one of the checkpoint guards said with a nod as he recognized the pair.  “Shall I send word of your return to the Olcadan?”

Keladry hesitated for a moment.  “I-“

“That will not be necessary,” Arkant interrupted.  The guard looked at the raven-haired dragonkin, then to Keladry as she nodded.

“Very well, my lady,” the guard nodded as he stood aside.

After the pair passed through the gates, Arkant noticed that Keladry was still acting like she was not in any particular hurry to return to the Librarium campus.

“I think we should get something to eat before we return,” Arkant suggested suddenly.

The purple-clad dragonborn stopped walking for a brief moment.  Her expression seemed to lighten as she stared up at her companion.  Arkant could not help but mirror the smile that slowly spread over Keladry’s face.

The pair made their way through the vast city streets; buildings with clean, white walls and ornate golden designs lined the main drag of the trade district.  A gentle, blue-scaled hand wrapped around Arkant’s.  Keladry pulled with sudden enthusiasm as she led her dark-scaled guardian to a particular building.  The sign above the door read “Fires of Sauria,” in a flowing script.

“I’ve been meaning to try out this place for some time now,” Keladry said with excitement as she suddenly wrapped her arm around Arkant’s.  “Apparently the proprietor was a famous culinarian, practically a celebrity, back in Sauria.”

“It has been...” Arkant thought for a moment.  “Quite some time since I’ve had a proper meal from our homeland.”

“Then it’s settled,” Keladry exclaimed happily as she clapped her hands together.  “Sir Arkant, won’t you be a gentleman and take me out for a meal?”

“Sure,” Arkant chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Then it’s a date,” she exclaimed while dragging him through the doors of the restaurant.

After a large and luxurious meal, Keladry insisted on making a few stops at some of her favorite shops.  She promised to reimburse Arkant for any purchases when they returned to the Olcadan, as her abductors had left her with nothing but her now rather ragged clothes.  While not thrilled, he found it a welcome distraction from the monotony of their recent journey.

Arkant had to admit to himself that his company was far more pleasant than he had expected.  Though the pair knew each other professionally, they had never taken time to get to know one-another.  Dragonkin and Dragonborn, from different walks of life, finding themselves in similar situations from time to time.  It was good to cut through the barriers of military and academic professionalism and get to know her for a change.

Arkant nodded to himself as he sat on a bench waiting for Keladry to exit one last clothing shop.  His waxing on circumstances past kept him occupied as he waited.  And although she claimed that she was not planning on purchasing any more clothes, Keladry asked to borrow a few more coins while he waited outside.

As Arkant stared into the distant sky and the setting sun, it occurred to him that it might be necessary to find a place to stay for the night.  They were still a long walk away from the campus, and soon the fatigue of travel would wear down on them.

Keladry stepped out of the shop and looked around.  Spotting Arkant, she hurried over to him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologized.  Her cheeks were tinged with red.

“Why are you blushing?” Arkant asked bluntly.

“What,” Keladry said in surprise.  “I’m not… Wow, look how late it has gotten already.”  Her purple and gold dress swayed gently as she started to stumble slightly.  “I’m feeling exhausted.  We should find a place to rest for the night.”

“You look it, my lady,” Arkant said as a look of concern crept across his face.  “Climb on my back, I shall carry you to the Olcadan.  You may doze if you like.”  He knelt before Keladry.

“I do not wish to return just yet,” she insisted as she climbed onto his back.  “Please, they will expect a full debriefing as soon as I set a single claw within the campus grounds.  I am not ready for that just yet.”

“Very well,” Arkant replied softly.  “Where shall we go?”  He stood, supporting her legs with both hands as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“I know just the place,” the blue dragoness said, her spirits already lifted.

Keladry led her black-armored escort down another street.  As the light faded on the horizon, people in the city continued about their business: shopping; eating; entertaining.  A few city employees scurried about, lighting the street lamps that lined the shopping district.  While many smaller cities and villages tended to shut down at night, a wealthy city such as Esthar only grew livelier.  Those with money to spend sought entertainment to take their minds off of business and to relieve the stresses of the day.

The couple stopped in front of a large building decorated with gold and red painted flames.

“The Dragon’s Lair,” Arkant read the sign with a hint of cynicism in his voice.  “Let me guess, another Saurian expatriate?”

“No,” Keladry said with a chuckle as she dismounted and gave a gentle nudge to her companion.  “This inn is owned by the sweetest mare who happens to have a slight obsession with Saurian culture.”

“A Stellosi?”

“Formerly; apparently her travels led her to settle here,” Keladry shrugged.

As the duo pushed open the large, metal doors of the inn, they were greeted by a tall, voluptuous woman.

“Darling Keladry,” the light grey horse practically whinnied with delight.

“Madam Melissa,” Keladry said warmly as the two hugged.  The proprietress was a massive woman, standing nearly as tall as Arkant.

“It’s been too long since we’ve talked,” Melissa scolded.  “And who is this breath-taking tall, dark and handsome?”  Melissa leered at Arkant through thick pale bangs that all but hid her eyes.  He could practically feel her eyes taking in every inch of his form.

“I am –“ Arkant started.

“He’s an old friend, Mel,” Keladry interrupted.  “And we are rather tired, and have spent the day traveling; we simply must get some rest.  Do you have a room available?”

The proprietress pursed her lips as she pouted for a moment.

“All I have left are single-bed rooms,” Melissa said as she checked her counter.

“That will have to do,” Keladry said quickly.  Arkant noted once more that her face was reddening.  “Oh, and please: we were never here.”

“Very well, my dear,” she said breathily with a wink. “You have fun now.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Arkant offered.

“Nonsense, cutey,” Melissa smiled at him.  “Tell you what, if you can’t sleep, come on down here and sleep – er, speak with me.”

“I – what,” Arkant found himself at a loss for words at the brashness of the innkeeper.

“Ignore her,” Keladry shot a glare at the mare as she grabbed Arkant by the rim of his breastplate and tugged him down the hall.

The room was far nicer than their previous lodgings.  Not only was there a large, luxurious bed in the center of the room, there was even a bathroom with running water, toiletries, and shower.

“Now this is something I miss out in the field,” Arkant nodded in approval at the bathroom.

Keladry laughed as she pushed him into the bathroom and shut the door behind them.

“What are you doing?” Arkant asked, surprised.

“Ark,” Keladry said softly, looking first at the ground then up at him.  Her face was still tinged with red from embarrassment.  “I know I can’t convince you, but… If I can at least show you some of the comforts you are missing out on...”

Keladry walked over to the shower and turned it on.  As the water hit the porcelain tub, she turned to look at Arkant.  Without another moment of hesitation, she unfastened her dress.  Gold-trimmed purple slowly slid off of her shoulders, revealing a pair of perky breasts.  The soft material of her dress clung ever-so-briefly to her hard, blue nipples, before sliding down to her generous hips.

“Keladry, we shouldn’t,” Arkant spoke softly, his voice almost catching in his throat.  He could not deny that he wanted this; Keladry was beautiful.  The curvature of her body, with those wide hips and cute breasts, had caught his eye on several occasions.

The blue dragoness pulled at her dress, leaning forward slightly she tugged on it; her breasts giving way to gravity as they hung from her chest.  Purple and gold pooled at her feet as the dress slipped over her hips, revealing her soft, pale blue belly.

Arkant hesitated.  His duty was to protect Keladry, not have sex with her.  It felt wrong, and yet he could not shake the desire he felt.  The comfort of real, actual affection felt like a lifetime ago; something he left behind in his homeland.  For someone to care about his well-being now was not something he anticipated.  He inhaled sharply as he tried to calm himself.  A blue-scaled hand caressed the Dragonkin’s face as Keladry came to him; her touch warm and calming.  A deep sigh escaped his black lips as he allowed his shoulders to relax.

“There,” the dragoness whispered.  “Let us remove the barriers between us.”

Keladry worked quickly to unlatch Arkant’s armor.  He complied, stripping armor and coat.  His grey-scaled, well sculpted chest was slowly exposed as she pulled on the drawstrings of his forest green jumpsuit.

As the heavy green material pooled on the floor beneath him, Keladry inhaled sharply.  Brown smallclothes struggled to conceal the outline of his hardening member.  With one graceful motion, she pressed her naked body against his, caressing his arms and back before sliding hers behind him to slowly pull down his undergarment.  She could feel his body shudder as he drew in a deep breath.

“Relax,” she whispered breathily.

After several moments of embrace, the dragoness led him to the steaming shower.  The large porcelain basin was surprisingly spacious, though still bordering on cramped with the two of them occupying it.  As the hot water washed away the dust and filth of travel, Arkant grabbed a cloth, and lathered it with soap.  Keladry turned, gently pressing her back against him, pinning his swollen cock between the cheeks of her ass.

Arkant gently scrubbed the blue-scaled dragoness, working from her shoulders to her chest, giving special attention to her breasts.  His strong hands cupped and squeezed her soft mounds as quick, excited breaths escaped her lips.  The sensation alone put her on the tips of her toes, her anticipation reaching its peak as those firm hands gently slid further, caressing her belly and hips, before stopping at her swollen slit.

His attentions sent her over the edge.  Keladry, with chest and cheeks reddening from arousal, instinctively brought a hand to her mouth in an attempt to muzzle a squeak of surprise as her orgasm caught her off guard.  The dragoness nearly slipped as it hit her.

“Please, Ark,” Keladry let out a whimpering moan as she bent over to brace herself.  “I want you…”

With a deep breath, Arkant squeezed one of her smooth, ample cheeks and pulled it to the side as he gripped his erection and guided it to her practically steaming hole.  Her juices were already dripping onto the head of his cock as he gently slid it into her depths, relishing the sensation as her tight walls slid around him.

“Yesss,” she moaned.  “Take me.  Take me now.”

Arkant slowly slid back, nearly pulling the full length of his cock out of her, before quickly thrusting back in.

“Fuuuuck,” Keladry whimpered.

It was too much for Arkant; his arousal took hold of him as he began thrusting, slow, hard, and deep.  Each time, he slammed his shaft into her depths as his crotch slapped wetly against her ass.  His breath grew ragged as he reached his peak, all the while, Keladry was moaning in absolute ecstasy.  Their orgasms brought a crescendo to the noise as the black dragon’s load pumped inside her, each throbbing gush sending shivers across her body.  Thick, white cum dripped and spattered on the porcelain below as Arkant’s still-throbbing member slid out of Keladry’s pussy.  Both breathed heavily as they leaned over, his broad chest pressing against her back, clawed fingers still gripping her waist.

The pair slowly stood again as they recovered.  Keladry quickly spun around, practically leaping as she threw her arms around Arkant’s neck, embracing him and pulling him into a kiss.  Their mouths pressed together, lips locked as their tongues wrestled and caressed one another lustfully.  His strong hands squeezed her ass cheeks, intensifying her passionate kissing.  After several moments, Keladry forced herself to release her grip on him.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” Keladry breathed heavily as she pulled away.

“I am at your service,” Arkant said with a coy smile.

The pair finished their shower without another word.  As they finished drying their bodies, Keladry, still blushing, instructed Arkant to “go lie on the bed.”

“I… Just have to finish doing something, then I will join you,” she looked away, still blushing.

The cool air of the bedroom brought the realization of growing weariness to Arkant as he left the steaming bathroom.  His head had barely touched the pillow as the embrace of sleep took him.  Though only minutes passed, his brief dream replayed the scene over and over again: that sincere look upon her face; that beautiful, naked body.

“Asleep so soon?” Keladry’s voice snapped Arkant awake.

“Just resting my eyes,” he yawned as he sat up.

As Arkant’s eyes adjusted, his words escaped him, leaving his mouth agape.  Before him stood Keladry, shining and beautiful as ever, now clad in ornate, black lingerie.  A black lace bra enshrined her perky breasts; black lace stockings held by a garter belt embraced her thick thighs.  And yet, she wore no panties.

“I see I’m not the only one ready for round two,” she teased, taking note of the once again growing bulge beneath the towel around his waist.  “But this time, you’re going to have to work for it.”

The pale blue dragoness smiled as she climbed onto the bed, standing over Arkant to straddle his face as he sat up.  Taking the obvious hint, Arkant grabbed Keladry by the waist, his firm grip holding her in place as he at once shoved his muzzle into her crotch.  He teased her at first, sniffing and breathing at her slit.  Then, teasingly slow, he licked the entire length, from the rim of her anus to the top of her slit.  Keladry could not contain herself; her own clawed fingers now grasping at his long, black hair.  His hot tongue gently worked at her labia, spreading her open as it went.  His wet muscle wormed its way into her depths, sending shivers through her body as she gripped his hair and head with her hands and thighs.  Her soft whimpering filled his ears as he continued on to her clit, gently taking it into his lips and sucking on the little lump of warm flesh.  Keladry’s hips jerked several times as she moaned, barely stifled by biting her lip as the orgasm hit her.  Practically melting with ecstasy, Keladry released her grip on Arkant’s head and slowly slid down into his lap.  Her deep, passionate kiss informed him of her approval.

After catching her breath, she gently pushed Arkant onto his back before gracefully swinging her legs over him as she turned around.  His rod strained desperately against the towel as she gripped it through the fabric.  The rough, yet soft sensation sent a shiver up his spine as she slowly peeled the towel away, revealing his fleshy pink rod.

“I see this part of you isn’t sleepy,” she teased.

Arkant retaliated by grabbing her ass and leaning forward to tease her slit once again.

“Ooh, you naughty dragon!” Keladry wiggled her dripping pussy against his long tongue.

Her own attention turned to his twitching shaft as she wasted no time running her own long, reddish tongue up his length.  She stopped at the head of his cock, wrapping her tongue around it and caressing his glans as she took it into her mouth.  Keladry’s blue lips locked around his member as she began sucking, her tongue writhing around the head.  She could feel his growl of satisfaction rumbling against her mound as he used his own tongue to massage her clitoris.

Not wanting to be outdone, the blue dragoness began to bob her head up and down along Arkant’s cock, sucking as the shaft slid in and out of her mouth, nearly reaching her throat each time.  She knew he was close to his limit when he began to inhale deeply, his hips arching higher toward her.

“Not yet, love,” Keladry teased after popping his swollen head out of her mouth.  Arkant responded by giving her ass a couple of playful slaps as she wiggled her cheeks in front of him.

Keeping her back turned to him, the dragoness laid on top of him, her own smaller frame fitting within his.  Her legs spread open as she guided his member to her slit, teasing it against her opening.  Arkant gently lifted his hips, sliding his hard cock into her waiting depths slowly, relishing every sensation as it slid with a satisfyingly wet sound.  Keladry’s hips arched slightly at the sensation as she let out a soft moan.  Waves of orgasmic pleasure rolled over her as his cock slowly slid in and out of her taut pussy.  She gripped every inch of him that entered her, claws digging into the sheets beneath them as she came again with a shriek of excitement.

“Why are you so good at this?” She panted.

Arkant responded by lifting Keladry enough to flip her around to face him.  The blue dragoness was blushing heavily as she gazed into his bright green eyes; a friendly smirk upon his lips.  Just as suddenly, he began squeezing her breasts and running his tongue around her nipples, taking his time to slowly suck and nibble on them.  Keladry squirmed and then retaliated by grinding on his cock, pressing herself down onto the full length of his shaft.  The black dragon let out a growl of enjoyment as he kissed her neck, then laid back down on the bed.  His strong, clawed hands gripped her waist as she began to ride him.  Her breasts bounced as she hurried her pace.  Her moans intertwined with his growls and grunts of pleasure, the wet slapping of their sex echoing in the room.  Arkant thrust as Keladry bounced on him, his cock penetrating her depths as her plump ass pounded against his loin.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK,” Keladry screamed.  Their lust increased with their pace as near-bestial cries of ecstasy echoed, and with one final, loud chorus they climaxed together: her hips bearing down against him as his hot load exploded into her, each pump of his pulsing member sending ripples through her body.  The pair rode the waves of orgasm like a great tide before crashing down against the bed once more.

Still breathing heavily, Keladry nuzzled against Arkant’s cheek.  “I was serious, you know.  I can tell that you have far more potential than just swinging a sword as a merc.  Stay here, with me.  Under my tutelage, you could become a great wizard, yourself.”

Arkant thought for a moment, taking in a deep breath.  “I will consider it, but I make no promises.”

Keladry sighed before cuddling up to him, relishing his scent and warmth.  The pair exchanged one more passionate kiss before both drifted to sleep in each other’s arms.

Arkant and Keladry grudgingly rose from bed the next morning.  Fresh food and hot coffee helped to wake to the day before them, but a refreshing shower and another quick fuck made them all the more aware of their coming departure.  But first, they would have to deal with the insinuations and jokes of the Inn’s proprietress.  Apparently, the scandalous noises of the night were heard by some of the other guests.

At the main gate of the Olcadan, the two said their goodbyes.

“Take care of yourself, Ark,” Keladry said gently as she kissed him on the cheek.  “Please consider my offer.  And thank you… For everything.”  She could not hide the crimson tinge on her cheeks as she quickly turned and made her way toward the campus offices.  A long debriefing and a checkup with the campus physician awaited her.