Gyrfalcon

Bravo, Peredhil.

*Gyrfalcon applauds* Wow. An interesting story told compellingly. On a side note, some people actually have interesting lives. That doesn't mean they're better or worse then mine, just interesting.

The strange party had reached the mountains in record time, Ryuu guiding them along clear trails through the forest to the foothills. They had reached the crest of one of the sear, windswept hills when Ryuu stopped. She glanced at the wolf for a moment, then she turned and held her hands out before folding them at the waist. Suddenly, she stepped forward and gripped the half-elf ranger’s forearm tightly. Gyrfalcon grimaced slightly, as the dragoness didn’t seem to realize her own strength. “Alright. I have something to tell the two of you.” she said. Gyrfalcon knew that she was a dragon... but then realized he had no way of knowing what type of dragon she was. He tensed and began to twist his arm out of Ryuu’s grip. Before he could complete the movement, Ryuu tightened her grip even further, drawing a faint gasp of pain from Gyrfalcon as he felt the bones in his wrist press together in her grasp. Driven by her nervousness, Ryuu unconsciously continued to increase the strength of her grip on Gyrfalcon’s arm as she spoke. “My name is Kokuryuu Flameshifter...” the dragoness got no further, as Gyrfalcon drew a knife with his right hand and struck at her hand to force her to let go before she smashed his wrist in her grip. She released her hand and backed off, but before Gyrfalcon could speak, Kokuryuu sprang at him. Gyrfalcon tried to dodge back, but barely began to move before Kokuryuu landed on him, smashing his knife from his hand as she drove him to the ground. Landing on the ground hard, Gyrfalcon looked up at her, surprise clear in his eyes. “Look, I don't want to fight with you! I may be a dragon, but I don't have any right to hurt you, yet...” she said, looking down at Gyrfalcon, then looking over at Robby. She almost seemed to be pleading with them for understanding. Getting up off of Gyrfalcon, she smoothed her skirts for a moment, then reached out and without apparent effort, hauled the half-elf to his feet. She released her grip this time, and Gyrfalcon backed up several steps, massaging his wounded hand. "Now I'm going to shift into my true form... Don't be alarmed!" Kokuryuu said. She took a few steps back, then smiled for the first time, almost mischievously. “Oh, and I am black.” Gyrfalcon scrambled to his feet and drew his katana, glad that he was left-handed, as his right hand was still numb and wouldn’t be up to grasping anything. Gulping as he looked up... and up... and up at bulk of the black dragon that was Kokuryuu, Gyrfalcon suddenly turned and charged the wolf, forcing him to scramble away from Robby. Dragging Robby up, Gyrfalcon pushed him off the path towards the trees. “RUN!” the half-elf shouted before turning and running the other direction, knowing that if Kokuryuu chased him, it would be a close race if he could get into the trees before she got to him... or bathed him in her acid breath.

protocolseven.com/archives/album15

Gyrfalcon's eyes flicked to Robby, then returned to stare into Ryuu's own. Relaxing slightly, he smiled sardonically and gave her a small bow. "Lead on, fair lady." he said with a slight wave of his hand, inwardly cursing himself. One of the responsabilities of a ranger lay in defending the innocent, and Gyrfalcon couldn't in good conscious allow Robby to go into the mountains with a pair of dragons alone. Of course, what Gyrfalcon could do to defend Robby from dragons should it prove neccessary, the half-elf didn't know.

*applauds* It's interesting to get a story out of that strange thing known as RL (Or at least setting it in a plausible RL setting) and making it worth reading. Good work, Katiya.

Stick- congratulations! Congratulations to everyone else as well. Kokuryuu- it's not a matter of the number of posts you make- its a matter of being seen contributing to the community. So you don't have to go into a posting frenzy, just keep on doing what you're doing, and you'll advance eventually.

Nah, they weren't- just a bit against the rose-colored spirit of the holiday. *grins* Maybe why I didn't find them more humorous is that I don't look at Hallmark cards very often, and thus I didn't realize that they were extremely cheesy and commercial. *nods* That was good of your family, Peredhil. Anyway, I hope your temper has improved, and that you enjoy the day. Merry Christmas.

Finally, this reaches it's end. I hope you've enjoyed the verses. On the twelfth day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: Twelve monstrous vines, Eleven buried gators, Ten dragons hiding, Nine kettles brewing, eight abnormal spirits, seven trees with faces, six moose stampeding, five insane yet happy grins, four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!), three purple fuzzies fuzzing, two wolves a-bouncing, and a phoenix in an oak tree!

Gyrfalcon smiles and accepts the hug. "Thank you Brute and Peredhil." he says with a smile. Turning to the rest of the Pen, the half-elf bows and then plops a santa hat on his head. "Merry Christmas, all!"

Exactly!

*raises an eyebrow* It's right there... and on every other line. I think he got his Weenies in.

The Night Before Christmas (Pen's version) Adapted from 'The Night Before Christmas' by Clement Clark Moore 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Pen Not a creature was stirring, not even the purple fuzzies; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, Wyvern’s large enough to fit a giant with room to spare, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; (Given the weight of presents, I hoped he would take care For under such strain he might throw out his back And the rest of the world would feel his lack) The Penners were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; And my werefox friend in his Santa hat, and I in my cape, Had just settled down for a long winter's nap, When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Perhaps Kokuryuu crashlanded after too much eggnog? Or perhaps she had trouble navigating the fog? Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow (How’d that get there? forty-three was supposed to be the low. Shoddy weather forecasters, though I shouldn’t disparage Foe.) Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny dwarves dressed as reindeer. With a little old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; "Now, Silly! Now, Shiny! Now, Idly and Wacky! On, Grouchy! On Greedy! On, Sexy and Courtesy! To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky, Such a valient, scrambling try No doubt was aided by the way he used that whip, I know I’d run faster rather then give him lip) So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too. And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof The prancing and pawing of each little boot. As I drew in my hand and slid down the stairs, faster then on foot, Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound. He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath; (Though I noted he had an awful cough- Perhaps the trip had been a bit rough?) He had a broad face and a little round belly, That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly. Then realization hit me, as he drained the sherry, His ears were pasted on- he was no fairy! When I looked at his stomach, I saw a pillow peeking out this imposter was no Santa- he was just a common lout! I looked closer, and sighed as I saw through the stuck-on beard that it was Brute who had come as Santa- how weird! “Brute,” I said with a sigh, “There’s no need to hide Who you are- and besides, we would not have denied you a drink on Christmas Eve.” Brute looked abashed as he wiped his mouth and then his eyes gleamed he spoke then and said “My dear friend, this is no sudden fling meant to earn me a single drink! No, you see Santa had to subcontract out his position this year for several places, and I made the pact to be the Santa for the Pen this year. So don’t you fear! Santa is here, never fear! Now excuse me while I go have a beer.” A few tankards later, he sat back with a belch. “Well, those were good, but I suppose I shouldn’t welsh. and so he stood up and looked around before picking up the bag as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, And shortly thereafter, right into the ground, For dwarves are not noted for being found Capable of flying, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-niiiiiiiig-!"

The woman and the wolf exchanged glances, and the wolf whimpered a second time. Gyrfalcon’s eyes narrowed slightly. Do they know that I know that they’re dragons? he thought to himself. Forcing himself to look relaxed, (though in fact he was slightly crouched in a fighting position, prepared to move should either one attack) Gyrfalcon pointed away from the mountains. “As I asked, the closest edge of the forest is in that direction, is it not?” His eyes flicked to Robby, standing behind the woman and the wolf. He looked slightly pale and worried, obviously not wanting fighting to break out among his companions. I hope you get your wish. Gyrfalcon thought to the man as he returned his eyes to the woman. Gyrfalcon had no desire to fight one dragon, much less two, but if they gave him no choice...

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: Eleven buried gators, Ten dragons hiding, Nine kettles brewing, eight abnormal spirits, seven trees with faces, six moose stampeding, five insane yet happy grins, four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!), three purple fuzzies fuzzing, two wolves a-bouncing, and a phoenix in an oak tree!

Gyrfalcon raised an eyebrow at the woman’s strange name. Ryuu... where have I heard that word before? he thought to himself. He remained silent as the woman alternated between demanding he leave with a strong undertone of ‘or face the consequences’ and a softer but still firm desire to escort him to the borders of whatever lands she (or with the way she threw around that ‘we’, the town or colony she represented) claimed. His carefully controlled expression cracked with a raised eyebrow, however, when a wisp of smoke drifted from her nose. Whoever she was, whatever she was, she may be half-elf, but she obviously wasn’t half-human. The content of her discussion with her familiar however, strained his bearing the utmost as he tried to control his expression. Despite his best efforts, however, he raised an eyebrow. Chromes... Metallics... She talks of the white dragon as if she knew him... and she spoke of the wolf fighting the white dragon... "Gyrfalcon," the woman said, turn to the half-elf. "You said there was a community nearby? You will have to move them. Dark times approach this land... " She added with a grave look on her face before turning back to the so-called wolf. Gyrfalcon considered her statement, then shook his head. He would most likely warn the leaders of the communities, but they wouldn’t listen to his warnings. Their lives and the lives of their people were rooted in the lands around them. They would discount any warnings not accompanied by more evidence then Gyrfalcon could ever supply. Her next statements, speaking of blotting out his and Robby’s memories, and then of killing them, caused Gyrfalcon to grasp the hilt of a knife unobtrusively, the ranger prepared to throw it at her at the first sign of spell casting. He was somewhat surprised at the lack of her knowledge of the frontier. Perhaps her own community was much more closely linked then that of the human towns nearby, but Gyrfalcon knew that should he and Robby die, there would be no mourning, no searches. Only a few shrugs and life would continue. Gyrfalcon didn’t see fit to enlighten the woman of this, however- he valued his continued breathing too much for that. As the woman took the lead, dragging her ‘familiar’ from the rocks, Gyrfalcon stood still, a slightly sardonic smile on his face. “No offense to you, m’lady, but the closest edge of the forest is in that direction.” he said, pointing almost directly away from the mountains. As he did so, his mind put together her earlier statements- of the Great Platinum, the Metallics and Chromatics. Why she seemed to know the white dragon who had flown overhead, and how the wolf could have fought that dragon. Gods help me... they’re dragons too. the half-elf thought to himself, his face impassive.

Vlad- I know, but I like the idea of 'Meese' running around. *grins* Falcon- close, but not quite. On the tenth day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: Ten dragons hiding, Nine kettles brewing, eight abnormal spirits, seven trees with faces, six moose stampeding, five insane yet happy grins, four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!), three purple fuzzies fuzzing, two wolves a-bouncing, and a phoenix in an oak tree!

Gyrfalcon raised an eyebrow at the woman’s gruff tone. Perhaps she thought he had had something to do with the wolf’s injuries? Bowing slightly, he said “I am Gyrfalcon No’Dessu, a ranger in the service of the nearby communities. I was inspecting these woods to make sure that there were no infestations of monsters or trappers operating illegally.” He gestured to the wolf “I found this wolf a few minutes ago, injured as you saw him before you intervened.” He eyed the woman carefully, noting her half-elven appearance and the way her hand rested familiarly on the head of the wolf. A mage or druid and her familiar, perhaps? “May I know who you are, m’lady?” He asked, careful not to ask what she was doing out here- for all he knew, her home was nearby, and of course, since the forest were unclaimed by any group that Gyrfalcon knew of, she had every right to be standing where she was. Thinking of the possibility that she may live around here, he spoke on. “If your home is nearby, you should be aware that there was a white dragon that was around the area earlier. It flew north a while ago, severely wounded, but it might choose to return south at some later time. If so, your home could be in danger.” The half-elf inspected the man standing behind the woman with a slight frown. If she was a wizard, he certainly wasn’t her bodyguard- the man was unarmored and seemed to be unarmed. While the man could be an assassin or one of those strange monks that appeared in the west every once in a while, Gyrfalcon doubted that possibility. Maybe he’s a golem. Gyrfalcon thought to himself, returning his gaze to the woman. He carefully didn’t mention the fact that he had understood every word she had said in Draconic, as mages learned that language and often wrote their spellbooks in it... as well as talked to their familiars in it. He carefully filed the phrases ‘The Conclave’, and ‘The Great Platinum’ and the name ‘Omegus’ in his head, intending to look them up when he returned home.

On the nineth day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: Nine kettles brewing, eight abnormal spirits, seven trees with faces, six moose stampeding, five insane yet happy grins, four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!), three purple fuzzies fuzzing, two wolves a-bouncing, and a phoenix in an oak tree!

The dragon roared again, closer, and Gyrfalcon pressed himself a little closer to the tree. He knew the dragon wouldn’t be able to see him- would have no interest in looking for him, but some actions were just instinctive, like trying to hide a little better when an angry dragon was flying by overhead. Something pattered down beside Gyrfalcon, but he didn’t move a muscle until several moments later, when the dragon roared again, off in the distance. Turning his head, he saw a steaming black liquid slowly eat through the leaves and fall silently away from the tree. Gyrfalcon raised an eyebrow at that, as it said that the dragon had seen battle, and even if it had won, the victory had been Pyrrhic in nature, since the dragon was screaming back north to the cold lands where its home would be located. Shrugging, the half-elf jumped from the branch he had been perched on, landing in an easy roll and returning to his feet in one motion. He spent a moment to brush dead grass from his cloak before picking up his bow from where he had leaned it against the tree he had climbed. Continuing down the mostly overgrown path, Gyrfalcon could sense the vibrancy of the woods. No monsters despoiled the trees with fire or ax, no hunters used iron-jaw traps, and so Gyrfalcon was on his way out of the forest. Jogging swiftly down the trail, Gyrfalcon stopped as he came across a wide scale, a strange two-toned color that could be gold or bronze. Gyrfalcon knelt and picked up the scale, knowing from the shape and size that it could only come from a dragon. What surprised him was the fact the white dragon had survived tangling with a gold or a bronze dragon. The white must have tangled with a young dragon. Gyrfalcon thought to himself, shaking his head. He placed the scale in his backpack and continued on his way. Less then an hour later, Gyrfalcon was startled to come across a strangely colored wolf sitting on a rock, staring out at the view. Several things struck the half-elf as odd as he cautiously approached- not least the animal’s size and strange color. The animal had been severely injured, and most wolves would retreat to a den to heal. Instead, this wolf was sitting out in the open, where other predators could smell it’s weakness by the scent of its blood in the air. Taking a chance, Gyrfalcon called out politely in Wolfish (learned from Canid) “How fare you?”

Thanks. The moose (meese? *grins*) and the trees were Canid's ideas and the rocks my own. Anyway, onto the next verse! (Yay, there's a fan out there! ) On the eighth day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: eight abnormal spirits seven trees with faces six moose stampeding five insane yet happy grins four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!) three purple fuzzies fuzzing two wolves a-bouncing and a phoenix in an oak tree!

On the seventh day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: seven trees with faces, six moose stampeding, five insane yet happy grins, four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!), three purle fuzzies fuzzing, two wolves a-bouncing, and a phoenix in an oak tree!

Here's a few from my Quotes file- they're attributed as accurately as possible. give someone a shiny, they're happy for minutes....teach someone how to BE a shiny and they're happy for a lifetime or at least until they tarnish *** Topic is 'Q glances around nervously...like a peer in headlights...and all of a sudden *BANG* ... Q was the next victim of the peer's reset.' "I heard the Pen is Mightier then the Sword/So everyone grab a ballpoint and start a war!" -Crescent Moon, "Shore" "Everyone dies - not everyone lives" "As long as you're alive - there's hope" "Don't swear your soul to any man or god, unless your soul, heart, and mind do it first" -Provided by Raimour. Pet purple fuzzy things: good idea or a disaster waiting to happen? The great shiney shortage of 86. Do were-horses make good steeds? What to do about the endangered Ghinas Indian Rubber Chickens of the east coast. -Canid's AoA Tonight topics

On the sixth day of Christmas, my wolf-friend gave to me: six moose stampeding, five insane yet happy grins, four mossy boulders (yet so comfy!) three purple fuzzies fuzzing, two wolves a-bouncing, and a phoenix in an oak tree!

Hm... not a fan of the Christmas season, Peredhil? They're slightly funny, but... yeah, they're attacking my idea of 'Christmas is a happy time'.