Perfection! lol
Just a wee note about the glasses. Normally, I don't do this, but I know you like to be precise. The description you want is "pop bottle" or "Coke bottle." A bottleneck is something different.
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Anyone else on here into vintage computing?
- Thread starter hunterjwizzard
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Just a wee note about the glasses. Normally, I don't do this, but I know you like to be precise. The description you want is "pop bottle" or "Coke bottle." A bottleneck is something different.
Mad Swede
Auror
Ah, then your dragon should be hoarding a Dragon 64 computer. Angharad had one, and those things even had (have?) a red dragon logo above the keyboard...
Dragon computers look very smilar to a Tandy Color Computer 2, even down to the size, and both types can run the OS/9 operating system if you have a disk drive (for the newbies out there, OS/9 is a form of UNIX and this made the systems almost unique amongst home computers of the time).
Naruzeldamaster
Auror
yep it was late at night when I made that post, had the right word in mind but typed the wrong thing (Happens when I'm speaking outloud sometimes too) also one of the main party is a L33T clan member (And a very important one, but the party doesn't find this out until they go to their city, which they do in act 2) and she's a gem, literally, her body is made of Jade (She's a stone blood elf who doesn't like how the world perceives a particular sub species of them, and she is one of said sub species.) but she's a total technology nerd. Parents got what they asked for when they named her beta lol
I'm currently debating some of the L33T clan mages having some form of ADHD etc (though it's never confirmed in story) but it's not a known condition in this world so they're treated like 'oddballs' Some of them will probably be the 'I left willingly' type and some will be the 'I was outcast for being *different* ugh' type.
You also know about the Demolitionist for the L33T Clan, she's the mute character we talked about a bit back. It's going to be fun writing her. I've developed her character into a full thing and I love her now lol (not like that but like 'my creation' kind of love)
I should note that I forgot to say I love your dragon, you should totally use him in a story sometime. And if you don't I probably would lol (With Permission at least)
In case anyone's curious, we introduce Avery in Beneath a Stone Sky. I really love him. This is his introduction.
~~~
“I’ve always wanted to slay a dragon.”
Etienne looked askance at the dwarven princess and sighed. Youth.
Cian turned to face Ásta as she crouched beside him, appalled, and whispered, “We’re not doing that.”
The dwarven princess rolled her eyes. “And why not?” Etienne could tell that she wasn’t used to having to keep her voice down. “Think we can negotiate with the guards, do you?”
Cian leaned in a bit. “Because it’s wrong. Look at him. He’s sick. He’s hurting. He’s chained to the wall. And he’s starving.” Etienne knew that Cian could feel the illness about the poor dragon, that it called out to him to make it right. Cian’s touch healing was as much a compulsion as it was a blessing.
Aodhán drummed his fingers on his sword hilt, clever mind whirling. “I agree with Ásta. We should kill it. One bellow will bring the guards running.”
Lana propped her elbow on her knee and raised an eyebrow. “Those scales are bulletproof. It’s about, what, forty-five feet from nose to tail tip? And let’s not even get started on the fact that it can fly. Oh yeah, and, least of all, breathe fire.”
Aodhán gestured, giving her the point. “All valid. It’s definitely bulletproof, and big, but it can’t fly chained to a wall. Might flame. Why it hasn’t flamed the guards, I have no clue. What you don’t know is that dragons have a weak spot. The scales are thin and malleable under the arms, where they need mobility. Drive a lance,” he glanced at Courage, “or a long enough sword, in through there and you get both the lungs and the heart. It’s a big reason why there aren’t so many dragons anymore.”
Brian laid a protective hand over Courage’s hilt. “Yeah… I’m not doing that.”
Aodhán gave him a look of irritation. “It’s not your call.” He looked to Etienne.
Ásta peered up at Aodhán with fascination. “Have you slain a dragon?”
Aodhán glanced up toward the dragon and froze.
“Well… have you?”
It wasn’t Ásta asking.
The dragon’s voice was resonant and strange, as if he used mouthparts that human forms didn’t possess. Etienne turned to face him, hands lifted just a bit from his sides to show his peaceful intentions. The flowing, lyrical quality of the Faerie Gaelic he spoke in took on a soft growl in his draconic mouth filled with teeth longer than Etienne’s hand, and underlying it all was a bone crushing weariness.
Was he about to be eaten?
The dragon spared him a glance and turned back to Aodhán. “Have you?” There was no anger in his voice. Just that terrible weariness.
Aodhán slowly found his feet, maintaining eye contact as he rose. “Yes.”
The dragon stretched his head to one side and scratched the side of his long, blue neck with the tip of a black horn. Etienne saw that there was an irritated spot there and a scale missing. Was it being irritated by the scratching, or was the scratching because of the irritation? A small bit of blood seeped up from the horn’s tracks. “Can you kill me?” Desperation glittered in those dark blue eyes.
Aodhán frowned. “I—What?”
The dragon sighed, blowing hot air over the six of them. “I am tired. I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of being tortured for their amusement. So, could you either kill me or go away and leave me alone?”
Ásta’s red brows were knitted and she rubbed at the sharply crowned head of her war hammer with discomfort. “I don’t see how we can, now.”
It was Aodhán’s turn to roll his eyes.
Etienne watched Cian nod his head in fervent agreement, and Etienne knew that there was no way was he allowing anyone to kill this dragon.
The dragon blew thin smoke out his nose. “Then leave me alone.” The dragon closed his eyes and moved to tuck his head beneath one scarred, fragile-looking wing.
Cian held his hands out. “Wait. What if we can set you free?”
The dragon’s eyes reopened and glinted with suspicion. “What do you mean?”
Etienne’s question, exactly.
Cian looked at the thick, rusty chain. “What if we can break that chain? You can get revenge on the guards, and we can make our way up to the top of the tower.”
The dragon looked toward the stairs. “Nobody talks to me. You’re the first to talk to me… They think I’m an animal.”
Cian took a cautious step forward. One more step and Etienne would pull him back. “What’s your name?”
The dragon turned to face Cian again. “I don’t remember. I had a name, once. I remember that much. But I was young when they took me from my mother and chained me to the wall, and I forgot it.” He sighed. “I’ve forgotten what the sky looks like.”
Ásta wiped at one eye, sniffing. “I’m breaking that chain.” She spun the hammer’s handle in her hand, making the pick end spark in the limited light filtering in from above and through the cracks in the wide double doors.
The dragon looked her way with disbelief. “You want to free me?”
The dwarven princess nodded and stepped forward. “You deserve to see the sky again.”
Cian gave her a smile, proud. Etienne watched the young king-in-waiting and knew the feeling.
Aodhán buried his forehead in his hand for a moment, and then looked up. “Okay, fine. Ásta, pick a link and stay with it. That chain’s sidhe steel and it’s going to take some sweat to break.”
Cian eyed the rusty chain. “Sidhe steel doesn’t rust… does it?”
Aodhán clapped him on the shoulder as Ásta began to hammer away, rust flying everywhere in flaking chips. “Everything corrodes, given enough time. Entropy comes for us all.”
Cheery thought.
Lana peered through the gap in the doors. “We’ve got company coming. You’d think they’d be passed out by now.”
Aodhán drew his sword. “Seelie. They’re a drinking culture.”
She snorted and drew her daggers. “And the Unseelie aren’t?”
Aodhán turned a wicked smile on her. “My wife is Japanese. We can’t compete.”
Etienne wondered if they needed a room and shook his head. They were so cute he might vomit.
Brian tilted his head. “Are you sure?” He paused and nodded. “Yeah, if you say so.”
Ásta threw a look his way. “Who the hell are you—?”
“Courage,” Etienne interrupted. “He’s talking to Courage.”
Brian stood and drew her. “Courage says this is taking too long. Ásta, step back a sec, please.”
The dwarven princess gave the chain one more whack and shrugged. “Fine.”
“Courage says the chain has an enchantment on it, so it’s tougher than normal. Nothing can stand up to a named blade, though.” Brian whipped Courage once through the air to build momentum, and brought her blade down on the chain, cutting through the chain as if it was soft clay and sparking on the stone beneath.
The dragon looked up from watching his chain being broken. “Open the doors and stand aside.”
Aodhán looked over his shoulder. “Why?”
“Because I’ve wanted to do this for a very, very long time.” The dragon pushed up on his forearms, his horns digging furrows in the ceiling, and his upper chest took on an orange glow. Heat radiated all the way to where Cian stood beside the door. “I am chained no more.”
Cian stepped closer to the stairs.
Aodhán’s rakehell expression took on an undertone of alarm. “Away from the doors! Now!” He grabbed Lana by her arm and pulled her to one side as Brian dove to the other with Cian and Ásta beside him.
Etienne gave the door a swift kick and dove to join Aodhán and Lana.
The door swung open, revealing drunken, irritated faces.
The dragon exhaled a plume of flames.
The flames blanketed the guards, and the screaming began.
~~~
“I’ve always wanted to slay a dragon.”
Etienne looked askance at the dwarven princess and sighed. Youth.
Cian turned to face Ásta as she crouched beside him, appalled, and whispered, “We’re not doing that.”
The dwarven princess rolled her eyes. “And why not?” Etienne could tell that she wasn’t used to having to keep her voice down. “Think we can negotiate with the guards, do you?”
Cian leaned in a bit. “Because it’s wrong. Look at him. He’s sick. He’s hurting. He’s chained to the wall. And he’s starving.” Etienne knew that Cian could feel the illness about the poor dragon, that it called out to him to make it right. Cian’s touch healing was as much a compulsion as it was a blessing.
Aodhán drummed his fingers on his sword hilt, clever mind whirling. “I agree with Ásta. We should kill it. One bellow will bring the guards running.”
Lana propped her elbow on her knee and raised an eyebrow. “Those scales are bulletproof. It’s about, what, forty-five feet from nose to tail tip? And let’s not even get started on the fact that it can fly. Oh yeah, and, least of all, breathe fire.”
Aodhán gestured, giving her the point. “All valid. It’s definitely bulletproof, and big, but it can’t fly chained to a wall. Might flame. Why it hasn’t flamed the guards, I have no clue. What you don’t know is that dragons have a weak spot. The scales are thin and malleable under the arms, where they need mobility. Drive a lance,” he glanced at Courage, “or a long enough sword, in through there and you get both the lungs and the heart. It’s a big reason why there aren’t so many dragons anymore.”
Brian laid a protective hand over Courage’s hilt. “Yeah… I’m not doing that.”
Aodhán gave him a look of irritation. “It’s not your call.” He looked to Etienne.
Ásta peered up at Aodhán with fascination. “Have you slain a dragon?”
Aodhán glanced up toward the dragon and froze.
“Well… have you?”
It wasn’t Ásta asking.
The dragon’s voice was resonant and strange, as if he used mouthparts that human forms didn’t possess. Etienne turned to face him, hands lifted just a bit from his sides to show his peaceful intentions. The flowing, lyrical quality of the Faerie Gaelic he spoke in took on a soft growl in his draconic mouth filled with teeth longer than Etienne’s hand, and underlying it all was a bone crushing weariness.
Was he about to be eaten?
The dragon spared him a glance and turned back to Aodhán. “Have you?” There was no anger in his voice. Just that terrible weariness.
Aodhán slowly found his feet, maintaining eye contact as he rose. “Yes.”
The dragon stretched his head to one side and scratched the side of his long, blue neck with the tip of a black horn. Etienne saw that there was an irritated spot there and a scale missing. Was it being irritated by the scratching, or was the scratching because of the irritation? A small bit of blood seeped up from the horn’s tracks. “Can you kill me?” Desperation glittered in those dark blue eyes.
Aodhán frowned. “I—What?”
The dragon sighed, blowing hot air over the six of them. “I am tired. I’m tired of being hungry. I’m tired of being tortured for their amusement. So, could you either kill me or go away and leave me alone?”
Ásta’s red brows were knitted and she rubbed at the sharply crowned head of her war hammer with discomfort. “I don’t see how we can, now.”
It was Aodhán’s turn to roll his eyes.
Etienne watched Cian nod his head in fervent agreement, and Etienne knew that there was no way was he allowing anyone to kill this dragon.
The dragon blew thin smoke out his nose. “Then leave me alone.” The dragon closed his eyes and moved to tuck his head beneath one scarred, fragile-looking wing.
Cian held his hands out. “Wait. What if we can set you free?”
The dragon’s eyes reopened and glinted with suspicion. “What do you mean?”
Etienne’s question, exactly.
Cian looked at the thick, rusty chain. “What if we can break that chain? You can get revenge on the guards, and we can make our way up to the top of the tower.”
The dragon looked toward the stairs. “Nobody talks to me. You’re the first to talk to me… They think I’m an animal.”
Cian took a cautious step forward. One more step and Etienne would pull him back. “What’s your name?”
The dragon turned to face Cian again. “I don’t remember. I had a name, once. I remember that much. But I was young when they took me from my mother and chained me to the wall, and I forgot it.” He sighed. “I’ve forgotten what the sky looks like.”
Ásta wiped at one eye, sniffing. “I’m breaking that chain.” She spun the hammer’s handle in her hand, making the pick end spark in the limited light filtering in from above and through the cracks in the wide double doors.
The dragon looked her way with disbelief. “You want to free me?”
The dwarven princess nodded and stepped forward. “You deserve to see the sky again.”
Cian gave her a smile, proud. Etienne watched the young king-in-waiting and knew the feeling.
Aodhán buried his forehead in his hand for a moment, and then looked up. “Okay, fine. Ásta, pick a link and stay with it. That chain’s sidhe steel and it’s going to take some sweat to break.”
Cian eyed the rusty chain. “Sidhe steel doesn’t rust… does it?”
Aodhán clapped him on the shoulder as Ásta began to hammer away, rust flying everywhere in flaking chips. “Everything corrodes, given enough time. Entropy comes for us all.”
Cheery thought.
Lana peered through the gap in the doors. “We’ve got company coming. You’d think they’d be passed out by now.”
Aodhán drew his sword. “Seelie. They’re a drinking culture.”
She snorted and drew her daggers. “And the Unseelie aren’t?”
Aodhán turned a wicked smile on her. “My wife is Japanese. We can’t compete.”
Etienne wondered if they needed a room and shook his head. They were so cute he might vomit.
Brian tilted his head. “Are you sure?” He paused and nodded. “Yeah, if you say so.”
Ásta threw a look his way. “Who the hell are you—?”
“Courage,” Etienne interrupted. “He’s talking to Courage.”
Brian stood and drew her. “Courage says this is taking too long. Ásta, step back a sec, please.”
The dwarven princess gave the chain one more whack and shrugged. “Fine.”
“Courage says the chain has an enchantment on it, so it’s tougher than normal. Nothing can stand up to a named blade, though.” Brian whipped Courage once through the air to build momentum, and brought her blade down on the chain, cutting through the chain as if it was soft clay and sparking on the stone beneath.
The dragon looked up from watching his chain being broken. “Open the doors and stand aside.”
Aodhán looked over his shoulder. “Why?”
“Because I’ve wanted to do this for a very, very long time.” The dragon pushed up on his forearms, his horns digging furrows in the ceiling, and his upper chest took on an orange glow. Heat radiated all the way to where Cian stood beside the door. “I am chained no more.”
Cian stepped closer to the stairs.
Aodhán’s rakehell expression took on an undertone of alarm. “Away from the doors! Now!” He grabbed Lana by her arm and pulled her to one side as Brian dove to the other with Cian and Ásta beside him.
Etienne gave the door a swift kick and dove to join Aodhán and Lana.
The door swung open, revealing drunken, irritated faces.
The dragon exhaled a plume of flames.
The flames blanketed the guards, and the screaming began.
Romy
Minstrel
Bottleneck glasses might work on a pirate...
Never waste a good typo...
It is rare a computer topic makes me feel... young.
Never waste a good typo...
It is rare a computer topic makes me feel... young.
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