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| Calling the Dragon Posted by: Gypsy at 07-03-2014 11:34 AM, Last Modified 07-03-2014 11:34 AM |
“Get back here, you vagabond!” the ursine general bellowed.
The small, lithe vixen nimbly darted through the iron gates without a second glance behind her. The bag of treasures on her back swayed to and fro from her evasive maneuvers as she dodged bullets with the ease of a practiced criminal.
Once she disappeared into an alley, she paused to set down her prize and catch her breath. Hands on her knees, she kept her large ears swiveling, keeping tabs on everything around her.
“Tsk tsk, Mitchie. You can do much better than that,” a smooth-as-honey voice said to her.
Whirling, Mitchie took notice of the feline in the doorway to her left. Dressed in a very risque ensemble, the prostitute leaned against the doorframe with a hip popped out and her luxurious tail swishing softly.
Rolling her eyes, Mitchie shook her head dismissively. “The guards are everywhere, Astrid, and the security’s been notched up. I don’t get it.”
“I told you, they’re planning to wipe out the rebel cause completely, Mitch. And you know as well as I do that even the poor, penniless innocents will die too. Every last man, woman, and child.”
Mitchie crossed her arms, one brow quirked into a question mark. “And I’m supposed to believe this information from you, especially when you got it from a drunk Denopolae guard?”
Astrid’s pink fur turned a shade more red. “I’m telling you! Sure, I enjoy messing with people with lies and deceptions, but this time I’m really telling the truth!” She paused, her fur standing on end in indignation. “Don’t believe me? Go find Belark. He can prove my words are true,” she snapped, nose tilting upwards.
Sighing, Mitchie grabbed the bag of trinkets and coins and made her way silently through the rundown end of the city. Inside the gates, Denopolae was lavish and beautiful, and picture perfect. Outside the gates, the poor, criminals, and rebels fought for survival in the harsh environment. There was little water, and most of it was barely clean enough to drink. What food there was had to be hunted and gathered from the forest beyond the slum, and Anthusian forests were not very forgiving. The wild creatures were much better equipped to handle hard lives, and more often than not, they evaded capture- or became the hunters...
The sound of bawdy drinking songs filtered through the cracked wooden boards that held “The Tipsy Dog” bar together. As Mitchie made her way in and through the clusters of poor creatures sipping the free ale from the bottoms of barrels, she grit her teeth furiously. Why should so many good people have such sorrows to desperately drink away? Of course, the typical number of drunkards and sleazeballs was in complete attendance, but there were also the few honest workers that just couldn’t take it anymore, and were trying to be blissfully ignorant for a little while.
“Mitchie! What business brings you here?” A very tall and burly badger with a slight beer gut greeted her as he dried off a clean mug with a rag. “Been a while since you poked your pretty face in here.”
Mitchie rolled her eyes. “I need to talk to you. About Taloka.”
The badger froze, his hand in the mug going still. “Slip on back there, and I’ll be just a sec.”
The little vixen nodded, and casually strode around to where the restroom was located. She slipped past a loose board on the wall, and entered an otherwise blocked off alley, in which she zig-zagged cautiously to a dumpster, and snuck into a secret door on the wall behind it.
Mentioning Belark’s dead daughter Taloka was code among rebel forces to talk in private about the Revolt- the ultimate stand-off between the rejected citizens and the corrupted Council within Denopolae’s “special” gates.
While waiting for Belark to finish his chores and meet her, Mitchie reviewed some files on the desk. This room served as a basic education and briefing room, and had historical items as well. The more secret info was kept deeper in the hideout.
Back when Anthusia was new, there were three ancient dragons- with long names Mitchie found unpronouncable- that guarded and ruled over it. Existence of other realms was well known, and the dragons had found Anthusia while escaping another realm. They created peace and prosperity like never before, and life was as perfect as it could be.
But the Ancient Ones needed rest eventually, and panic swept across Anthusia. The dragons promised that they would wake wiser than when they had gone to sleep, and only one would be awake at a time. They gave their people the tools and power to ressurrect the hibernating giants, and instructed that they only use them after a hundred years had passed.
Over two-thousand years had passed.
The “temporary” council that had erected itself after the dragons dispersed and went into hibernation came to like its power too much. The relics were locked away, and ancient legends and stories banned and burned. The Ancient Ones were left to sleep forever, and the Council reigned supreme, throwing out anyone they deemed unfit for society and building the center into a haven for the rich.
But the rebels were banding together, and they’d been piecing together old scrolls for years. Now they knew the truth, and were plotting to steal the relics and find the dragon who should’ve been woken years ago.
“Mitchie!” Belark broke into the vixen’s thoughts, panting as he came in through another, more badger-sized entrance. “Wha- what brings....you here...?” he wheezed.
She stood up taller. “Astrid says that the Denopolae army is going to hunt down the rebel army, harming innocents if they have to. Is that true?”
He put a large, clawed hand behind his neck and sighed. “Aye, it’s true. I heard it myself serving some patrolling guards. They were tipsy enough to blab a bit in front of their server.”
Mitchie’s nostrils flared. “We are people, too! They can’t do this to us!” she shouted, angrily kicking at a barrel. It was marked as old fermenting fruit, but was actually black market ammunition.
The badger grew suddenly very sober. “Mitchie, we’ve begun organizing the final stages of the Revolt.”
“You mean....”
He nodded. “Once things are finalized, we’re sending a special team to take back the relics, and then that team is going straight to Calcator Mountain, where Drizyndial sleeps. He’s the one who was supposed to wake first.”
“But what about the innocents out here? If the Denopolae guards figure out there’s a huge chunk of outsiders missing, they’ll slaughter everyone!”
“That’s why the majority of the rebel army is staying put. To fight back and protect the innocents,” Belark said, a bit too calmly.
Mitchie sat atop the barrel she’d tried to kick, and let the news sink in. Finally action was being put to use! They were FINALLY going to overthrow the Council, once and for all!
Suddenly, a sleek brown otter dropped down from the rafters. “Belark, you were not allowed to say any of that to her.”
Instead of showing fear or regret, the badger smirked. “Right, an’ you’re telling me Mitchie here wasn’t a go-to for the ops mission? What harm would a simple heads-up do?”
The otter raised an eyebrow, then turned to Mitchie. “Well, he’s right. And it’s been decided that you’ll be a part of the team. My team,” she said. “My name is Raja Aquaitis. Ex-guard of Denopolae.”
It was Mitchie’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’re telling me that I’m going to be following the orders of someone tainted by my enemy? Fabulous.”
Raja’s tiny ears flattened, and her lips lifted in a snarl. “Do you want the job or not?”
“Fine. Don’t expect me to be your easy little minion, though. I like to do things my way.” Mitchie said calmly, glancing at her tattered nails absently, to add emphasis on how little she cared for her new authority figure.
“Well, then I expect to show me your way of surviving my training regimen tomorrow morning,” the otter snorted, arms crossing over her nearly flat chest.
“Oh, I will.” Mitchie nodded to her and Belark, then lifted her head high and slipped out of the hideout.
“I don’t think I told any of you to rest! We’re going to be climbing a mountain, remember? So get off your asses and get going! And where the hell is Mitch?!”
Mitchie snorted from the tree above Raja, who was yelling at the group of eight others that had been selected for the mission. They were all qualified, but it had been a while since most of them had done any strenuous activity.
“You know, you’re not supposed to kill your team before you even get to the mission part,” she said, flipping around on her branch to hang from it right behind the bossy otter.
Raja whirled around, fury contorting her face. “You think this is a game? Get down here and start jogging!”
Mitchie put on her best complaining face and moaned. “But I-”
“NOW!”
Training lasted two weeks, until everyone felt sure they were prepared for the tasks ahead. As they fitted themselves with gear, Raja approached Mitchie. “As big of a pain in my ass as you are, I’m making you my second in command. That means you get to do the big danger stuff while I boss everyone around. Got it?”
Mitchie’s ears pricked. “Oh really? Even with all my sass, you still love me?”
Raja snorted, a common reaction to almost anything that came out of Mitchie’s mouth. “Let’s not go that far, shall we. I’m just interested in having the sneakiest person doing the dirty work. Plus, I’d love a show if you got caught.”
“Psh, I’m not going to get caught,” Mitchie said, rolling her eyes.
“She went that way!”
“No, it was that way!”
The sounds of the arguing guards echoed through the halls of the Council’s inner house chambers. Mitchie panted, clutching the wrapped up relics tightly to her chest. She hadn’t been expecting that guard to wake up... Raja had promised her darts were potent enough for someone of his size even. But that bull had shaken it off like it was nothing.
The nervous fox’s heart was pounding violently, and she almost wondered why it didn’t alert anyone to her position in the dark side hallway, just off the main hall. If only she could just dart out to freedom- it was so close.
“What do you mean, the relics were stolen?!” an angry voice yelled. “That’s it- start the raid! We’re cleaning those pests out now!”
Alarmed, Mitchie peered out and saw Luxor Vargnos, the head of the Council. The sight of his face made Mitchie’s blood boil, and she felt such an urge to make an attack... She was stealthy, and he was so close.
And he had just ordered the death of all outsiders.
Suddenly, Mitchie made up her mind. She didn’t know if it would work, but it would lead the Ancient One directly to her position.... Hopefully.
Hurriedly, with fumbling hands she set up the idol and the four elemental crystals, and used the smallest to slice open her shaking palm. Dripping her blood in the center of the pentagon created by the relics, she uttered the practiced words, “Aworl sveit en khorl, magra venith totallnok, egragi fydro mehri, vens al trehk dravon!”
“You! What do you think you’re doing?!” Luxor bellowed, his tiger eyes ablaze in white-hot fury. He launched himself at her, tackling her and pinning her down. “You’ll pay for this, vermin!”
His left hand found her throat, while his right claws slashed at her face and ears. His weight on her was crushing, and she briefly wondered if anything was broken because of him. Surely her ribs...
There was the sound of gunshots firing and plasma cannons unloading on both sides, the rebel team and the Denopolae guards. Mitchie hoped her comrades would make it out alive, but Luxor liked to keep his guards adept at fighting. It was up to-
C-c-c-CRASH! BOOM!
Turning her bloody face, Mitchie looked through fading eyes and saw a massive clawed foot by the doorway to the side hallway. A bellowing roar full of anger covered all other sounds, and that’s when Mitchie blacked out.
“Mitchie? Mitchie!”
Rise, my child. You have done well, and though I am a stickler for traditions, I respect your choice to remove need for a proper awakening ritual. The source of Denopolae’s corruption is over. Welcome to your new world.
Mitchie stirred, and opened her eyes to see bluish-green scales in front of her face. Enormous nostrils the size of her head flared gently, and then backed away. A massive dragon with spines and horns galore on his elegant body stepped back on six legs, his leathery wings tucking in by his sides.
“Drizyndial?” Mitchie asked, merely to attempt saying the dragon’s name. She held back a laugh at her success.
The dragon snorted, and nodded once to her, respectfully, before walking elegantly away to attend to matters of restoring Denopolae.
“Mitchie!” Belork cried, Raja and Astrid by his side. “How are you feeling?”
“Well, I feel like a tiger attacked me. But otherwise I’m just peachy,” she said, sitting up. “So it’s really over, huh?”
“It really is, Mitchie. We’re in a new age of hope now.”
...... |
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