Grunvelde

A Ribbeting Ride

Grom the Horned Frog made no secret of his lifelong goal to ride an imperial. After working his way up from fae to mirror to skydancer, he pursued the regal breed without any luck. The imps were all too aloof.

Grunvelde was the first imperial who didn't refuse Grom's odd request. Flattered, she took the unlikely passenger on her daily route through her favorite canyon.

It was then that Grom realized why the other imperials had turned him down. Their movements were incredibly swift! He hung on for dear life. No matter how hard the dragon banked, Grom clung to her hide like a wart. Thus, the legend of Grom the Immovable was born.

Hooked on flight, Grom sought out ever more difficult vehicles: colossal guardians, slippery spirals, and the mightiest imps in Sornieth. But of all his chauffeurs, Grunvelde loved him the most. She flew with him countless times over the course of his long career.

A Tavern, Somewhere in Sornieth

"What's your story, then?"

"Just a lowlife imperial making do with a band of sky bandits," Grunvelde snorted.

"You're hardly that," the bartender clucked. "It's clear you come from royalty!"

"Don't flirt with me."

"Oh, come now. How can I resist? Look at those wings. That hair!"

The brown dragon gave a dull stare.

"You haven't seen it in yourself yet. I understand." Shrugging, the stout snapper passed Grunvelde a great sloshing goblet and resumed mixing more.

She downed the cup with a flourish, then cracked out a deafening belch.

The tavern, designed for dragons, could hardly contain Grunvelde. The giant imperial made her unsteady way out, crashing into tables and letting loose a chain of hiccups.

“Windsinger, you’ve got to take me back.” An aftershock of the burp rumbled up. “My skills are indispensable.”