New Guy in Town!

[Arren Aragarth]

   Arren had been flying for hours. The Scauldron attack had been at night, and now he could see the sun just rising over the horizon. He was dehydrated and famished, everything was a blur at this point. His mouth was constantly dry and there was nothing he could do to wet it. He could feel the wind constantly slappign him with a cold hand, and it filled his ears with a constant sound. The Sky Reaper held his shirt between its sharp teeth. As it flew up and down, his shirt would tear in a new spot, and every half and hour or so the dragon would toss him up into the air and catch him again to grip a different part of his clothing. Arren was looking up at the dragon. It was dark, black almost. The sun would glint off its skin and show some lighter purple marks. Whatever the dragon was doing, it was determined to make it before Arren died. The Sky Reaper looked fearsome. Its brows were filled with dark ebon horns, and across its back it had the same horns. Its head looked like the shape of the tip of an arrow. Its teeth were bright white. It was hard for Arren to focus on such things, but the sun now let him observe the dragon more clearly.
   It was a magnificent creature Arren thought. But still there was a bit of fear in him. The Denerian used the little strength he had to raise his arm. He slowly neared his hand to the back of the dragons jaw. He placed it down gently, ever so gently, and almost immediately the Sky Reapers eyes were on him, piercing, and compact. The first thing he noticed, aside from the dragon being pissed off, was that it was very warm. Either Arren had a cold, or dragons were just simply warmer than humans. The eyes looked at him cruely, as if judging him. The creature obviously did not like it. But the dragon was not very free to move its head around with Arren in its jaws. He made a "Shhhhhhhhh" sound trying to calm it, and he ran his hand down its neck, to bottom of its wing. The animals eyes became dilated and its eye lids closed just a bit. It was enjoying it. Arren chuckled, but then the world around him spun.
   The image around the edge of his eyes felt distorted, and his arm fell back down in weakness. His last sight before passing out was the dragons cold eyes on him again, they came back to their judging gaze. 
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  Arren woke with the sun hitting him on the face. He was still looking at the sky, but something was strange. He felt something behind him, massive, and furry, warm, and slightly wet. Then he heard some rustling of trees. He felt some- wait... TREES? He was on LAND Arren had finally made it! He looked up and he saw the Sky Reaper lifting into the sky before taking off again. 'The dragon... it... it saved me!' he thought. Arren had forgotten his weakness in his excitement. He got up and began to run in a random direction. "I MADE IT! I FINALLY MADE IT!" he yelled before face planting as his legs failed him. Wet grass and dirt squished against his cheek, and he squeezed the soil between his hands. It felt great to be back. But now he felt himself losing his sight again, everything became a blur. And now his eyes locked on to one thing. It wasn't voluntary it was just a natural reaction. His eyes locked on to a single grass blade against the sun. That one single grass blade stared at him back like the dragon. Now to think of it the image was identical. A single thin pupil staring at you across inmmense eyes. Arren felt a single tear roll down to his nose. 'Please, don't let that be the last thing I see. The last thing I see before I die is going to be that one blade of grass. Please don't let it end like this. I made it and this is how I'm going to die?' his eyes closed, and he fainted once more. 
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[Baldr Bjorg the Bonkers]

The sacking of Denerim had been heard of by the main town in Hysteria almost immediately. Survivors had been slowly turning up nearby so Baldr, the chief, had started sending out search parties to see if they could find any survivors who were getting lost in the journey as well as to try and deal with any dragons that decided to stray in the island. As much as Baldr didn’t want to kill dragons he knew he had to deal with any dragons still hear after that attack, his hands were tied.

Baldr had also joined the search on this particular day, he knew the forests probably as well as anyone. His mind was only his other duties, the voices talking about the problems that needed sorted when he got back and him trying to think of a respond to each problem, with the occasional help/hindrance from the other voices.

That was until he saw the young man lying there. He ran over to him, “Hey, you alright?” Baldr asked as he slowly turned the man over. he’s still breathing, one of the voices who was being more helpful today commented. Baldr still checked anyway. He was right. But the man was unconscious. Baldr picked him up and started to carry him back to town. It was slow trip. It’d be useful to have dragons right now, Rags’s voice comment. Baldr pushed the thought aside. Not helpful.

He finally got back to town, at which point another Viking took the man and they both went to Theraputix’s house so that the healer could tend to him, Baldr waiting by the man’s bed as he did so.

[OOC: Pimey here, thought I’d make a post here just to get the thing going. I really have too many threads as it is, but Im willing to help keep this one moving until another member can join and in case you’re wondering, Baldr hallucinates xD (though it’s been a while since I played him so I am rusty))