Brandt

Uh-oh, looks like this poisonous (yet friendly) Nocturne wandered a little too far from his home lair (411317, kept by irisnemo), and now he's off to see the world! If ever you feel the need to exalt, he'd really appreciate it if you could just return him/her to the home lair, or to the 'Dragons Off To See The World' thread, here. This is not necessary, but he would be very grateful!

Owners I've Had:

irisnemo | 411317 (home)
TeenyTK | 206487
deerteeeth | 364390
Jayw41ker | 514021

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Bad eyesight wasn't ideal in the Southern Icefields, it really wasn't. Everything quickly blended together, a sea of whites and greys. It was rather disorienting, even, and Brandt struggled to get anywhere at all.

If he had to be honest, he probably would have perished if it hadn't been for running into a small group of friendly merchants heading down South.

He was allowed to go with them, quietly listening to their stories and trying not to freeze his wings off. Unlike them, he had no supplies - no furs, no magic, nothing at all to keep the chill out. And while they tried to help, they didn't have the extra supplies to outfit him with anything decent. So he shivered on, fairly relieved when they reached their destination.

A decently sized clan, balanced carefully on the very edge of the world - and one where they had warmth, most of all. Brandt spent days upon days inside, trying to thaw out his frigid bones. At one point, a few of the permanent residents found themselves worried and took him to the healers, even, but they couldn't find anything wrong. A case of the chills, they said, it can linger quite long in outsiders.

Which it did. Brandt stayed inside, mostly, amusing himself with stories and getting to know the various dragons that lived there. But he had to move on, like most travelers had to. But he was loathe to exit the warmth of the cave.

Thankfully, one of his new friends had a solution for him. A mage, Kvasir, supplied him with an enchanted armband. It would help him stay warm, the Wildclaw said softly, and should he get too warm it would help him stay cool. A small gift as thanks for the many nights they'd spent sharing stories and chatting and Brandt thanked his friend before he set off, feeling far more prepared for the frigid winds outside now.

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Leaving the Southern Icefields, Brandt headed north, away from the chills and colorless expanse of the south. He did not have a specific destination in mind, allowing the winds to lead him wherever they would. The winds lead him into the edges of Wind territory, so close to the Plague lands that if he squinted he could make out the dull, sickly colors of the Scarred Wasteland. Here he met a group of rough and tumble vagabonds, far different from the impression he'd gotten of Wind dragons. They were suspicious of him at first, but quickly adopted him into their ranks.

They weren't a very large group of dragons, no more than nine or ten, but he could never tell for sure because they were always coming and going. Brandt was half convinced they were outlaws, on the run. He could never really tell. They told stories of grand adventures and escapades, but they never talked about where they had really come from.

Brandt enjoyed keeping company with the dragons of the Outpost for a while, but he began to notice the nighttime trips and certain things that no one would ever talk about, and he began to feel that the longer he stayed, the more danger he was in. Besides that, he had an itch to get going and see more of the world. They seemed sad to see him go, but Brandt felt much better once he was flying high again.

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