Arc

progen kid


They could be seen from miles away. Any unwelcome presence was tolerated minimally, and these strangers would be treated no different. As the patrol of dragons approached the camp of misfits, the array of breeds within the band gathered, making their uncomfortable hostility no secret. The confusing lumps and coils of spirals all blended together, and the various heads poking made them seem as one great beast, rather than many smaller. It was a toss-up as to which would be more dangerous.

A technicolor dragon stepped ahead of the patrol, making his powerful presence no secret. "Who is your leader?" He called ahead to the band, who shared glances between themselves. They didn't have a leader, no, they were all equals in their land. But, perhaps, it could be easier to send a representative forward, to intimidate the fools who came onto their territory. There was only silence.

"Well?" He implored again, powerful bottom jaw opened as a threat. "I have an offer to make, and not one you'll want to refuse."

"Speak of it, then." A small voice cut through the gathering, and forward stepped a tiny fae, barely the size of the other leader's nose. However, his face was cut into with a glowing rune, and his faceted eyes seemed to take in everything at once. His presence commanded submission.

Encroach merely sneered. "You, an alpha?"

The fae, Arc, stood silently, gazing up. His webbed wings were folded calmly at his sides. Amongst themselves, the gathered band of outcasts shared nervous glances.

"Well, then." Encroach began to pace, dragging his heavy claws over the ground intentionally. "I've come to ask for your help in numbers and strength. Deep within the Arcane lands is a clan of dragons with ill intentions for me, and my own clan. Should we be triumphant, you and your dragons will be allowed a portion of the territory."

"We already have a home." Arc answered strongly. "We want no part in your war. We are not mercenaries."

Encroach stood tall, his tongue flicking out irritably, clearly not happy with the refusal. "Then you will go down as well. Fight with us and be rewarded, or stand idly by, and suffer our enemies' fates. The choice is yours, little dragon."

Behind Arc, his gathered fellows were growing restless. The indirect threat was clear, and this patrol more than matched them in numbers as it was. Arc seemed to contemplate this, and spread his wings. "Though few we may gather, our force is greater. Leave us be, and no harm shall befall you and yours."