We leave! [ALL]

“In four days time, when all of us have recovered enough to be able to fight at our normal levels.”
She smiled.
“However there is a slight issue. We're flying, so I guess you'll have to double with one of us, due to not having a dragon.”
That was something for him to think about.
“Its the quickest way to get there.”
Would save weeks of travelling by boat or horse.

Rhyllae smiled at him.
“Its the same day of the week now that he normally would show up. He only shows up once a week, and sometimes he'll miss a week or two. No one ever gets angry at him for doing to, though the children get disappointed that the story tellers not there.”
She chuckled.
“One day, we'll go there and he will be there. For some reason he kept looking at me when he told them when I was younger. I still sometimes go, when I have the time to spend with my family.”
Time which had almost run out. They were moving to Ciarbera.

Rhyllae smiled at Kiiron. She knew that this was going to be an interesting night.
"Alright. By the time that hour is up, he'll be there if he's telling those stories again."
She laughed. "See you soon."

Keya smiled. "Very well, I shall see you in a few days then."
Knowing that she was doing the right thing, though there would not be so freindly a welcome waiting on Waenen for her, she had the feeling, she left to go and deal with the other lords.
It was time for her to tell them just who was going to be in charge of Ciarbe

She chuckled at his words. "Come with me. I know where to go, and its not far into the city." She smiled though, as she guided him into the town. She was pleased that someone would finally meet the storyteller who seemed to know a hell of a lot about the dragons, even though she had no idea as to his knowledge.

As it was, it did not take long for her to reach the tavern, and she headed in, grinning as she saw her family. They though she did not aim for, instead she found somewhere for them to sit while they waited for a chance to talk to the stranger.

He seemed to have just begun his tale that evening. The tale he spoke of this time was well known from him. "The sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass whether we will them or not... but we can remember. What has been lost may yet live on in memory. That which you will hear is imperfect and fragmented, yet treasure it, for without you it does not exist. I give you now a memory that has been forgotten, hidden in the dreamy haze that lies behind us."

The teller seemed to look around at them, even glancing at Kirron and Rhyllae with a rueful smile. "Before your grandfathers fathers were born, and yea, even before their fathers, the Dragon Riders were formed. To protect and gaurd was their mission, and for thousands of years they reigned over us here in Nuban. Immortal they were, unless slain by poison or blade. And yet even after this merry time, which none alive remember, save a few hidden souls, there came a new rider."

Though Rhyllae was aware of Keya being in the room herself, talking to one of the barmen about the taxes that were owed to her, he seemed to plunge on with the tale, a not so kind tone to his voice now.

"He was a strong and smart this new rider, though a little arrogant and a trouble maker. At first his intelligence and willingness to learn were encourage and he passed through his training easily. Then in an account of folly, in which he was sent on a mission by one of the elders, which they did not anticipate he would actually take up as a mission for himself, his true dragon, a brown female, was slain."

The man paused, as if regathering his thoughts. Keya had left by now and it was a good thing she had.

"For ten years he vanished, then something happened. A blue hatchling was stolen from their rider, you all know of whom I speak now. The name of the dragon? Rhothilion. With this new steed and with followers who believed that the riders were getting too arrogant and power hungry, he sought to take down every last opposing rider."

The man seemed to sigh. "The Riders were unprepared for this, and under this onslaught they were easily slain. The elves fought as well, and until of recent, they hid in their secret places in the great woods."

He shifted his shoulders, as the flames at his feet seemed to illustrate his story, clearly he was a magic user. Only Ingora, leader of our Riders at the time, could resist Lindan Marcos and his followers. Ancient and wise, he struggled to save what he could and stop the remaining dragons from falling. In this he was sucessful for even though he and his Sun dragon, Rathorn were slain by Lindan Marcos, the dragons we see today were saved."

The man bowed his head. "From the day of Ingora's falling, Lindan Marcos claimed to be king over all Nuban, though we all know that he was heavily contested and finally slain. But know this, the time of the Dragon Riders is coming once more, and peace reigns over us all."

Rhyllae looked at Kiiron, knowing this to be the end of the story.

The aging eyes snapped up at the words that Kiiron spoke. "Who wants to know?" asked the voice. "What's it to you, boy?" His name was one that brought back too many memories. Of a time long since gone. He had been tehre when Lindan Marcos rose, he had been one of those riders. A few of the humans seemed to be watching, but who was he to care.

He sighed though, and the hood fell backwards revealing the royal elven face. The chocolate brown hair. Gem's eyes. "That would be me, but I am no longer hold any claim to that title, my predecessor holds it now." The wise eyes looked at Kiiron and at Rhyllae. He knew Rhyllae well, after all the stories he had told. he knew of the things that his daughter had done. He knew of his other daughter's treachery as well.

He was not however, fond of Keya at all.

He raised an eyebrow at the boy for a moment. He did not get a chance to reply though before he had to turn to face someone else. Someone who had poked him, which was extremely bad manners when it came to an elf.

"Laura is dead." He spoke quietly, and clearly there was sadness in his eyes. The he glared at the woman.

This time though he raised his own voice back at her. "I was captured by Lindan Marcos himself. Marcos slaughtered my dragon in front of me! Don't you bellow at me, Rai!" Clearly he recognised her.

For mighty Bjart was dead. And that was something that still pained him. "We might not age, but our lives take their toll on us. "I know you lost your dragon, so I know you're aware of how it feels for me to have lost mine. You'd do well to remember that Laura was the new leader of the riders after Ingora and his dragon died."

His eyes glared down at her. "At least I continued to fight long after our order fell. You ran and hid," she scolded her. "I lost Bjart trying to help the people we swore to defend and gaurd, and he died doing what we were meant to! You would do well to respect your elders!"

He was not impressed by being called a dungbat and it made him even angrier at her. So much for telling stories about the times when they had been the riders of the old world. This was not something he was likely to forget either when it came to her.

Sighing he sat down, shaking his head. "What have I done?" he muttered to himself, knowing that there were some things things made everyone confused when it came to him. He was something the others did not really understand.

When someone called his name, he looked up though. Things might be hard for him, but he knew that he had to answer, as was expected of his kind. He was one of the last true dragonmen.

His eyes met Kiirons with no small difficulty as he spotted the two day dragons behind Rhyllae and Kiiron. Longing seemed to shine in his eyes as he looked at them, he even bowed his head to the pair. “Greetings young ones,” he said, smiling at the two. Then he looked at Kiiron. “What about, Kiiron?”

Though he was a dragonman, he knew that there were times when he wished that he had never found Bjart, and that the dragon had never chosen him. Why did he have to live to see another day, when his dragon, the other half to him other than his beloved Laura, was gone now?

What did he have to live for?

"And apart from my other daughter," Zelphar reminded him. For Hycis was still here. He sighed though. "No, no one knows i live except for the people who have been in the tavern listening to my tales." He sighed, knowing what had happened. "I have remained hidden in a place i shall not say, for a good ten or so years. There was no reason for me to show myself, I could never tell Gem that I was alive... again. She hardly believed it the first time that i was not dead."
Zelphar smiled as one of the hatchlings came over to him. He reached up with one hand and gently stroked the dragon's cheek.

He sighed as he looked at them. “I know she is not in Nuban now. And there is no way I am going anywhere near that half elf daughter of that traitor king.” Clearly there was nothing that was friendly from him towards Keya. She was a thorn that irked him greatly.

“Why won't you go near me?” asked a voice and he glanced over at Keya. Then he looked away, clearly not seeing her at all. “I know you're against my father, my father is dead now. I am the ally of the elves and I always will be, Lord Uruohtar Zelphar.”

“Rider no longer,” he replied, looking at her. “You look a lot more like your father than I can like, Keya.” He sighed. “Perhaps I should not judge you because of your old man.”

“What did you want to ask me, Kiiron?” she looked over at him. Both Zelphar and Rhyllae looked over as well at that question.