Roleplay

Granitekeep was a sheer cliff, ripped apart from the inside out. The looming drop cast a massive shadow, engulfing an extensive, rickety staircase, built out of boards with each surface hastily smoothed. The wooden staircase zig-zagged up, dead oil lamps hung in intervals at the rails, until it met the center of the cliff, where Cittigazze stood small before a mighty door. Drawn upward, logs sharpened to vicious points threatened the icy stone floor below them. There were grooves directly below them, each about a foot across and as deep as a Fae dragon's neck was long, where the logs would lock in like vicious teeth, shutting off the open hallway the Spiral stared into. The hall itself was black. It was impossible to see the very back of the cave. Cold air gently blew from within it, stark in contrast to the punishing heat brought on by the sun.

Cittigazze called into the cave and her voice rang for just a moment after she closed her mouth, and then the hall was silent once more. Hot winds blew, and the lanterns at the staircase rocked serenely, jingling like gentle chimes as steel struck wood. This part of the Shattered Plains was so quiet. No birdsong accompanied the brief ringing of the oil lamps. No dragons came from the black hall to greet the Spiral's announcement.

It would me several minutes before any sort of dragon would come from within the imposing lair. If particularly unlucky, Cittigazze would be at the door for hours. It would at that point be smarter to simply leave the package at the toothy gate and leave, but it seemed the Spiral had struck a fine deal with chance. She need only stand at the door for a minute, before at the top of the cliff, the distance whistle of wind over wings announced the presence of another dragon.

High above the lair's door, four sun bleached ballista towers were visible, each evenly spaced and unmanned. A gigantic pair of rich red wings shaded their pointed roofs as a large pink Guardian soared high over the edge of the cliff, and took a steep dive for the ground below. He was burdened with fat, heavy logs tied securely to his back, and in his forepaws he sunk his claws into a massive block of beautiful white stone.

As he came rocketing closer, his own gleeful shouts were joined by another, smaller dragon. A purple Tundra shot after him, struggling to carry two burlap sacks hung from either side of his body. Both passed right over the green Spiral, completely unaware of her as they barreled through the air, calling at each other. The juvenile Tundra flew past the young Guardian, fanning his wings and raising into the sky once more. The Guardian also spread his wings, but could not follow suit. The block of stone caught the ground, and the great pink dragon plowed into the dirt. The logs came loose from his back, scattering over her shoulders and all over the fields around him. The Tundra came slowly sailing around, cackling as he landed beside the pink dragon.

"Oh, look what you did!" The purple dragon cried, voice ringing up the cliffs. "Mom's gonna beat you up!"

The Guardian peeled himself from the ground, also laughing. He shook himself, dust raining down from between his scales, and then thrusted his head towards the Tundra, who paled in comparison to his size. The purple dragon jumped and fell over into a heap.

"I'll just tell her its all your fault." The pink dragon exclaimed, jaws hung in a smile.

"No, this is all your fault!" The purple dragon wiggled an accusing claw, pulling himself to his feet. "Don't push your problems on me."

"Well-"

"Nope!"

"Well you-"

"Nope, not me!"

"Oh, I'm gonna crush you!"

"Yeah, well, I'll tell Mom that, too!"

The two juvenile dragons spat at each other, back and forth, with such passion one would think such an activity was a sport here under the Earthshaker's rule. It was until they had been torn away from each other by a voice up the steps to their home lair that they went at it, and then abruptly they fell silent. The larger dragon's head rose up on his neck like a mast, and likewise his hairier counterpart stood erect like a rabbit, both posed with noses turned towards the sturdy wooden steps.

The smaller of the two said something, quieter now, perhaps too hard to hear from a distance, but certainly it was a curse that left his lips. The Guardian stood up, then reared onto his hind legs.

"Clan Granitekeep, here!" He shouted up the wooden steps. With his size, came great power to his call. Dropping on all four feet once again, be backed up, and then launched himself back into the air. Flittering after him was the purple Tundra, hanging off of the pink dragon like a butterfly. Their forms came closer, and more refined, as the larger dragon touched down first on the smoothed floor at the very mouth of the lair doorway. He hit the ground with a heavy thud, the metal plates and buckles of his clothing rattling as he did so. The Tundra came sliding down to the floor beside him all the same.

Now in view, the two dragons became easier to inspect. While they wore very little, what they did strap to their bodies seemed to match for the most part. The larger of the two was, indeed, very large. Intimidatingly large, with tiny brown eyes and a powerful looking jaw. His beard was a thick mess, running up his chin and behind his ear fans like sideburns. At his chin, it was tied up with leather.

The Tundra was something else within himself. Obviously juvenile, his mane was thin, just growing in. His throat was exposed from the mop of purple hair, yet to be covered. A sharp mohawk grew right up to his forehead. His hair, however, was the least unusual aspect of his body. Rather, his forelimbs stole that spotlight. His paws, instead of ending in soft, padded toes with tiny gripping nails, were adored with massive, scythe-like claws. He had the hands of a mole. The Earthshaker showed his touch in more than just the eyes of this dragon.

The two mumbled to each other, though none was really intelligible aside from "Did you order something stupid?" before with craned necks they approached the Spiral.

"Wie-Oben of clan Granitekeep." the pink Guardian began first, head lowered to meet the Spiral. His beard dragged on the floor in doing so.

"So-Unten of clan Granitekeep," the Tundra said in turn. With the extra space he had compared to his partner, Unten took a bow of his head, displaying his rack of horns to the Spiral in greeting. When he raised his head, he asked, "You lookin' for someone in particular?"

"You think it's for dad?" Oben asked the Tundra quietly. Or, as quietly as he could. The volume of his voice could only do so much considering his stature.

"Why would it be for dad? What does dad want?" Unten replied.

"I'unno, I'm just guessing..."

The two brothers came near as the green dragon inspected the black wrapped package. Unten reared onto his hind legs like a gopher, allowing his bladed claws to hang out of the way as he leaned in. Oben had lowered his chin so far that his jaw laid flat on the ground.

"Huh..." The purple dragon began. "... I don't know. Do you?" He shot a glance at his Guardian brother, and the great pink dragon simply returned the look, shuffling his wings on his back in silence. Hesitantly, the Tundra dropped back down onto his forelegs, and as he did so, the larger dragon raised his head back up. Oben swung his head towards the gaping doorway into the cliff, with one tiny eye trained on Cittigazze.

"We can take you inside." He suggested, turning his body front down the dark stone hallway. "I bet we can ask around."

"Yeah." The purple dragon agreed, standing upright again as he strolled closer to his brother's side. As he neared the doorway, he looked back and asked the green Spiral, "Do you need anything, either? You know, like, water, whatever..." He waved his forepaws about dismissively.

"We have water. It's hot in the Shattered Plains." Oben added.

"The only other place that could bake you like this is the Ashfall Waste." The Tundra said to the larger dragon. "Come on, come inside, we'll take you down. We'll find whoever ordered that thing."

Oben snaked his head down to the floor again, whispering to Unten, "I bet it was dad." To that, Unten replied.

"What would dad even want?"

"We'll find whoever ordered it." Oben said. "It shouldn't be that hard." The Guardian started down the hall of the massive doorway, ducking his head under the row of sharp wooden teeth that made up the log door. His tail dragged behind him as he began to fade into the dark. Unten gestured Cittagazze to follow with his horns as he began after his brother.

As they traveled into the lair, the Tundra spoke to the Spiral, walking on his hind legs still. "This door's rigged." He told her, pointing back at the very entrance as it moved further and further away. From inside, with the low light, one could see the mechanisms of the door. Great, taut ropes and steel gears held the door in place, feeding into indents in the ceiling. "We close it at night. It mostly stays open, though. That's why we have the watch towers."

The hall became darker and darker, and colder as well as the sun's heat grew further from the three, until at the very and of the hallway a flight of steep stairs began. The stairs, like the door, were massive, obviously build with dragons as large as Oben in mind. They had been sculpted directly into the floor, smoothed out into individual steps. Sand dusted their surfaces. As the three dragons began to descend, the first light had appeared, nailed to a nearby wall. Oil lamps hung, burning low, evenly placed down the giant staircase.

For some time it felt like they had been on those stairs. For hundreds of minutes it seemed they went down deeper into the cliff. How deep? It simply wasn't clear. There was no real way of telling, with no markers on the walls, aside from the occasional shift in material that the stone walls went through. Gypsum and gneiss alternated between solid sandstone, creating flowering waves in the hallway's surface.

Finally, at last, the two earth dragons had lead the Spiral to another open doorway at the very end of the staircase, light pouring through the frame. It lead to a giant room, with a high roof held up by sandy pillars strung with electric lights which cast a low orange glow. The floor was mostly natural, as had been the stairs, except for the very center of the room, where a fountain stood.

The fountain, and the floor around it, had been set with tile, though incomplete it seemed as some major patches of the ground lacked the same pearly finish. The fountain itself featured a statue of a winged dog, with it's wings spread wide and its head down turned regally. Water spouted from the podium it stood upon. It looked unfinished.

In the water laid a large, naked dragon. Charming.

A yellow coatl with a mesmerizing coat of rosettes lounged in the fountain, facing away from the doorway with his head rested on the shoulder of the fountain. What could only be his own, expensive-looking clothing laid in a neat pile on the edge of the pool. It wasn't until the sound of footsteps did he look up.

Bright green, catlike eyes slid towards the doorway. His crest flared, and his forked tongue snaked from his thin smile.

Oh.

The brothers stopped at the doorway as the yellow coatl rose up from the fountain. Water slid off his feathers in little beads, plumage slick and damp. His tongue teased the air as he leaned over the slow railing of the flowing pool. The purple tundra crossed his forelegs anxiously as he crossed his eyes up at his snout. Oben, after some hesitation, spoke.

"Maurris..." He sighed. He sounded somewhat... Disappointed. More so disturbed. "... Have you seen, uhh, dad?" Uhh, dad?

The yellow coatl's tongue slipped back into his lips. "Furcas was here minutes ago." He said, sliding back into the water slowly. His voice was silky, tail curling in the air above his head as he spoke. "He unclogged the fountain."

"It wouldn't clog if you didn't sit in it." Unten commented, still avoiding the coatl's gaze as he raked his claws idly over the floor. Maurris sunk deeper into the pool, ignoring Unten, and instead changed the subject. His sliver-thin pupils focused on the green spiral dragon beside the two brothers.

"Who is that?" He asked, bobbing his neck up out of the water. "A new friend of yours?"

"Postmaster." Oben replied. "She has a package. Where's dad now?"

The coatl rolled over onto his back, stretching. He pointed a stubby arm with tiny fingers towards an opening in a nearby wall. His claws glittered in the light. "Down the hallway, in his room, I bet." Maurris said.

A snort rumbled through Oben's little nostrils, and using his size he herding the two smaller dragons along with him. He lowered his head, and whispered, "Come on, let's go..."