A/N: Coming to a computer near you...
Link: From the authoress who brought you Dragon Blood, Super Smash League, and Brother Squadron...
Roy: ...comes the thrilling fourth installment of the infamous Dragon Series!
Eliwood: Nintendo Lackeys, Inc. presents...
All: DRAGON FEUD. (Rated PG, on the web immediately)
XD OMG, we are all such dorks. Oh wells. Let's get it started!
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Dragon Feud
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Chapter 1: Performing Their Task
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"Dragonologists' task is to conserve and protect those few dragons that remain, for who knows how many shall last another century, with the human population growing at such an exponential rate?"
Ernest Drake, Dragonology, 1895
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"Come one, come all, to see the many wonders forged from flesh and bone!"
...called the cry of Mr. Feenie's Freak Show and Faire, in the rolling hills just outside Lancaster, England. A modern cesspool of the strange and out of the ordinary locked up in cages for narrow-minded people to ogle and throw peanuts at. A place where ignorance thrives and the outlandish and bizarre are stripped of their dignity.
This was one the worst places for the self-dubbed Four to work in, yet it was where the most help was needed for a certain creature which Mr. Feenie collected obsessively.
They were easy to spot but also easy to ignore. In the lead was a shorter youth with wild locks of red and blue eyes gazing over each booth and cage carefully. Every pitiful creature he looked open received his silent remorse, but he determinedly moved on, knowing that if things went well, they would be free soon.
In the rear was a slightly younger, smaller boy with brown locks, a cloak clipped over his back and shoulders. It was more difficult for him to pass the tortured exhibits by, the sadness in their eyes cutting deep into his heart. Still, with the goal in mind, he marched on.
An mature lad with well-groomed cerulean locks flanked them on the right, a book bag over his shoulder. He glared disapprovingly at all the bustling people around him, having a merry time at the expense of the abnormal creatures they casually laughed at. Their mission may have not been centered around them, but he still considered them all horrid people.
The final of the Four flanked the left, a bandana hiding away his ears but allowing his golden bangs to flow freely. Like the brunette, he was most concerned about the imprisoned freaks, but what caught his attention most were the younger specimens. Little boys and girls with warped faces, baby elephants and horses... He had every urge to snatch up every one of them, but he was told to control himself and wait for the opportune moment.
Finally, the redhead froze, and the others mimicked his halt. He gazed up ahead and motioned for them to follow him through the crowd, approaching the awful scene they had hoped to find but didn't at the same time.
"Come all! Witness the dreaded serpent of the West, the great Dragon!" cried a man with an invigorating voice, Mr. Feenie himself, donning a tamer's rugged outfit and wielding a wicked black whip. Next to him stood a metal pole, a chain hooked to it and leading to a clasp locked on the neck of his poor victim. It was a Gargouille (1), a raptor-like dragon from Mideast Europe, named after the demon-like statues that donned the castles as protection. Its animated face was downcast in humiliation and shame, its smaller wings drooped submissively.
"Dance, you wretched beast, dance!" Mr. Feenie cracked the whip like a flash of lightening upon the dragon's back, and after a trill of pain, it began to trot around the poll hopelessly. The ignorant spectators stared in amazement.
The Four were completely disgusted.
"I'm going in," the redhead muttered. "Stay back and don't bring attention to yourselves."
"Good luck, Roy," the cobalt replied, the other two nodding as well. "Make it look convincing."
Roy nodded, pushing through the barrier of people into the performance circle and exclaiming, "Let the dragon go!"
The crowd gasped. Feenie's handlebar mustache curled at Roy's abrupt entrance.
"...What did you say, you little urchin?"
"Let the dragon go!" Roy repeated fiercely, thrusting out a bold finger. "Forcing him to perform for your audience is sick and cruel! Release him, now!"
Feenie made the longest inward face in history, then produced a ring of keys, clicking it into the dragon's shackle. "Very well, then."
He tore the chains away and cracked the whip, sending the Gargouille into a pain-crazed frenzy. The crowd cried in horror as the dragon reared before Roy, who wisely backed off, then hopped and twirled until he was on the creature's back, firmly latching onto his shoulders. Roy then took a hold of the earflap and trilled comfortingly into it to try and calm him down. After a few pitiful whinnies, the dragon submitted, strangely trusting the boy upon his back.
When he had cooled down, Roy then grumbled, "Stay near me. Do not run away. I have a plan to free you and everyone else he has captured. Trust me, please."
The Gargouille gave him a consenting snort.
Roy nodded and climbed off, caressing the back of his earflaps gently to keep him under control. He faced the expectedly shocked crowd casually, catching a spontaneous, inspirational glint in Feenie's beady eyes.
He faced the crowd as if he had anticipated this in his act. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the legendary Half-dragon!" he boldly proclaimed. "Red-haired, blue-eyed humans with dragon blood, half-dragons possess many of their powers. However..." He leered at Roy. "Sometimes they grow unruly and must be tamed, just like their feral cousins!"
Though Roy was glaring, he was internally grinning. All according to plan. "Go ahead and try me, you pig!"
"Remain calm, everyone! I shall make short work of him in no time!" He faced Roy and reached into a pouch, pulling out a clump of glittery red dust. Seeing this, Roy advanced to give the illusion of an effort of rebellion, running right into the cloud of cast powder. He struggled to get the mess out of his eyes as Feenie shouted his taming spell.
"Ivàhsa yuduin! Enimôr tam inspelz! Boyah ugôner gedit!"
And then he stopped in his feverish swipes, his knuckle gliding across his cheek hesitantly. He swayed slightly, then revealed his eyes, large and unfocused. He glanced detachedly at the crowd, who were stunned by such a drastic change. To their knowledge, he was under Feenie's control.
They all applauded as Feenie too Roy's flaccid hand and bowed. His victim did the same lopsidedly.
"Thank you, thank you!" Feenie flexed his plastic smile. "All it takes is a flash of dragon dust and the right words, and those with the blood are instantly under your control! You must be cautious, however, to say the words exactly correct, or you'll be sorry!"
The audience "ooh'd" like a class of children.
"And that concludes this presentation! Feel free to return in 15 minutes for an encore! Bring a friend! Bring all your friends! And enjoy your day here at Mr. Feenie's Freak Show and Faire!"
As the crowd dispersed, the dragon grew discouraged as Feenie chained him up again. He glanced at the mamkute, who returned a hypnotized stare. The dragon would've looked away gloomily, but then something caught his eye.
Did the half-dragon just give him a wink?
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The other three hurried through the crowd after the demonstration was over, but not in a panicked hurry. They slipped out and settled behind a tent set up near an oak tree, its shade providing an effective place to hide away from any peepers.
"So..." the young brunette started, addressing the cobalt, who sat against the tree in a relaxed manner. "Did he miss it?"
The cobalt considered this. "...Lemme double-check." He reached into his bag, pulling out a small burgundy book and a pair of reading glasses. Slipping them on, he flipped through the ochre pages, fingering each line until he found the spell, grinning quite smugly.
"Well?"
"He wasn't even close."
"What a loser," the blonde laughed. "You'd think after saying it so much, he'd get it right."
"Well, regardless, thanks to that, our job's that much easier." He shut the book in one hand, slipped it away effortlessly, and relaxed further against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. "All we do now is wait for the signal."
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The fun and games ended at 8 PM, and all the gleeful lights shut off, leaving the tents to droop in the darkness of the evening. The cages and stables where the freaks were kept had their inner gloom covered with brightly-colored drapes and ribbons. The inside of each stable was provided with less care, floored with loose strands of straw and a hatch protruding out back where their meager meals were dumped carelessly. The places were made of wood, which in theory would prove dangerous with dragons around, but the iron and flint the dragons needed to spark their flame breath was strictly forbidden.
In the stable where all the dragons of varied species and sizes were stuffed into, they were hoarded around the hatch and splitting the meat, as they were accustomed to. They all turned when the door was thrown open, frozen in obedience as Feenie led in his latest capture. He got the boy to sit down without protest, his back to the dragons as he settled limply like a rag doll. Their owner snorted towards them, then left, slamming the door behind him.
A rusty red Knucker (2) was coiled up tightly, umber eyes glaring at the half-dragon as his tiny vestigial wings were flared suspiciously. "...The impulsive fool. He walked right into the trap."
"The poor thing..." a turquoise Lindworm (3) sighed, lowering her snout to the cold floor. "He was brave, to confront Feenie (his name was pronounced in Dragon Tongue as a spiteful screech) for our sake..."
"But he is too young," the Knucker hissed. "Not experienced enough. He leaped into a situation he could not control, just like the last one."
"I-I beg to differ," the Gargouille hesitantly spoke up, and all eyes turned on him. "I do not know how I know, but... Somehow I believe this is a part of his plan, that he was meant to get captured."
"That is ridiculous," the Knucker dismissed the idea immediately.
"How exactly do you know?" the Lindworm asked curiously.
The Gargouille hesitated nervously. "...He spoke to me. He told me he had a plan. He told me to trust him."
The Knucker snorted disdainfully. "Why did you trust a boy to achieve a goal we dragons cannot do? He is naïve and stupid, and now he is trapped with the rest of us."
The Gargouille was reluctant to give up hope. "But..."
"Honestly..." The Knucker glared at the boy's back. "How can he possibly expect to be able to help us while he is tamed? The dust lasts for hours!"
In response, Roy chuckled softly, straightening up and turning to give them a sly smirk, his eyes clear and knowing.
"Whoever said I was tamed in the first place?"
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The other three had moved a good distance away from the faire once they knew the situation was under control, waiting patiently for their cue. The cobalt was lying in the grass and enjoying a good rest while the brunette sat beside him, engrossed in a borrowed book on Dragon Behavior. The blonde had removed his bandana once the people had all cleared away, revealing tapered elfin ears that would've surely caused an uproar if spotted. He rubbed them sorely after being pressed inwardly for too long.
"...wow, did you guys know that male European dragons court by presenting gemstones and nests of treasure to the female?" the brunette spoke in amazement.
"Absolutely fascinating," the cobalt muttered, knowing that fact already, as he stared at the evening blue sky above.
Gazing around aimlessly, the blonde finally spoke. "Yo, Marth?"
"Uh?" the cobalt grunted.
"Debrief me one more time, will you?"
The lad named Marth groaned and heaved himself into a sitting position. The brunette looked up from his text and listened in as well.
"Okay," Marth began. "Roy is gonna release the dragons when he gets the chance, and he'll command them to exit the faire westward." He faced the blonde elf. "Link, your job is to direct them between the mountains to the pick-up point where the SASD officials will pick them up."
"Gotcha," Link made a tiny salute in confirmation.
Marth then turned to the brunette. "Now, Feenie's bound to notice the breakout and bring attention to himself, and when he does so, your job is to take him down before he can figure it out and try to run for it. Think you can handle it, Pit?"
Pit hesitated, clutching the book tightly as he shut it and handed it back. "...I hope so."
"Don't worry about it. Just think of everything Feenie's done to all those creatures."
The boy considered this quietly, his brow slightly narrowing.
"...So..." Link sighed, bored. "How do we know when Roy's released the dragons?"
As if to answer, an explosion rocked the faire with a small orange flare, followed by excited and terrified trills and cries and a stampeding rumble.
"Oh. Guess that's it."
"Go, Link!" Marth ordered, and the elf shot off west. As the rumbles became louder and more frantic, Marth and Pit watched and waited.
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"GO GO GO!" Roy shouted, gesturing to the charred hole in the side of the stable that the dragons pushed through in desperation. Once they had all cleared out, he was ready to follow, but with one last glance into the dark stable, he spotted a dragon who had not yet taken the opportunity. Perplexed, Roy approached it, looking it over.
It was a male, crimson serpent, Eastern by the lion-like head and roundly-curved claws. He had small, vestigial wings, with a strong serpentine body, limp from unconsciousness. Roy recognized the specific species, the scientific name Draco orentalis serpentalis coming to him, but the casual name had escaped him for the moment. He made a confuzzled face.
I could've sworn they were bigger than thi...!
And then he realized that mane was a head of auburn hair.
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Pit beamed in gladness as he saw the dragons clear through the plastic boundaries of tape and escape to freedom. However, that feeling was dashed when Feenie broke out of his tent and squealed in horror at his fleeing sources of money.
"NO! No no no no no no no, stay! STAY!" he commanded helplessly, but they thundered on, totally disregarding him. With the fresh air streaming through their nostrils, obedience to their captor was out of the question.
"Go, Pit, GO!" Marth urged, and they boy yelped and hastily jumped to his feet like a jackrabbit.
"NO! This is not happening, this is not happening!" Feenie was growing delirious as his world came crashing down upon him, his sanity teetering on a dangerous cliff as he watched his life's work sprint away to freedom.
Glancing back hopelessly at his dragon pen, he was surprised when someone stepped out of the hole, a serpent lazily coiled around his arms and over his shoulder. He looked to the left and to the right, and when eye contact was made, Feenie was a pulse away from a heart attack.
"YOU!" he screeched in rage. "You little rat! This is all YOUR doing!"
Roy gave him a lopsided grin. "Well, duh. Not as amateur as you thought I was, huh?"
"You've ruined me, you rotten half-breed!" With a metallic shing, Feenie pulled out a small, oh-so-menacing knife. "You're going to PAY!"
Roy would've met his challenge full on, but remembering the dragon in his arms, its safety his main priority, he realized he was in no position to get into any fight. Plus he was instructed not to damage Feenie too much so he could serve his time properly.
The half-dragon internally cursed to himself as the rabid Feenie hurried towards him, waving the knife erratically...
...when another, smaller figure tackled him from the side. The two tumbled on through the grass until Feenie threw the boy off, glancing at the determined blue eyes, glowing in the moonlight.
"ARGH! Accomplices!" And then it hit him. This was no ordinary breakout. This was a planned assault. And that meant the officials had caught up with him. "NO! You're not taking me alive!" He ran in the opposite direction in a quite cowardly fashion.
"Oh, no you don't!" Feenie took a fearful glance back to watch as Pit took a running sprint and threw off his cloak, and a pair of ivory-white wings flared dramatically with a few loose feathers curling into the air in their wake. Feenie squealed in terror as the winged boy took a leap, hovered above the grass, and swept the man into his arms, carrying him high into the night sky, above the surrounding grounds of his faire.
"AGH! Release me, you winged little freak!" Feenie shrieked as he struggled madly.
"Should've thought of releasing your dragons!" Pit bellowed, holding on as tight as his adolescently-toned arms could. "It's over, Feenie! Give yourself up!"
"NEVER!" Feenie snarled menacingly, freeing his armed hand, leaning over, and jabbing it into the boy's wing, drawing dark crimson blood and a cry of pain. Flightless, the two dropped into the grass. Feenie looked over as Pit clutched his injured wing, whimpering in pain, and without a care, the tamer moved to sprint away. However, yet another lad tackled him, and he hit the dirt for the third time. His attacker pressed his foot down firmly upon his back so he couldn't get up again.
"That was despicable, damaging an angel's wing," Marth muttered in disapproval. "But I suppose we should've expected that from you."
Feenie gave out a feeble groan. The jig was up.
Marth gave a nod and a push of extra pressure as punctuation of his capture. He looked up to watch, puzzled, as Roy, after realizing the danger was over, laid the serpent in the grass, looking him over. The cobalt would've questioned, but the rev of several engines brought his attention to the nearby road, where a series of trucks drove up to the faire, each with separate emblems of different organizations. Feenie moaned as men flooded out of each truck and marched towards the stables and cages to collect his subjects.
A separate, sleek black Bentley drove up beside the trucks, its emblem a curved dragon, circled with dragon rune. The back door opened dramatically, and out stepped a middle-aged man in a black business coat, though he wore it somewhat loosely. In oppose to his smooth entrance, he strolled over casually, observing his surroundings as if he was walking through an art gallery.
He stopped before Feenie, bending over to address him. The poacher lifted his gaze miserably, facing a cocky smirk on the man's aged face.
"End of the line, Feenie," he spoke with a curling, smooth accent. "Feels pretty rotten, doesn't it?"
Feenie whined pathetically as two men in uniform came over to retrieve him. With a forceful tug and the slap of handcuffs, he was finally taken away.
The man watched them go, shaking his head in some type of regret, then realized that Marth was standing there beside him, giving him a good-natured grin. "Ah, Marth, my boy, good to see you. Well done."
"Thank you, sir." He bowed slightly based on habit.
The man noticed his book bag. "Has the Mystical Branch of the Library been of use to you?"
"Oh, yes, tons. Thanks for the authorization, it's been a big help."
"Anything to aid you and the others." He waggled a proclaiming finger before Marth. "Especially you. When I first met you, I instantly saw the glint of a scholar in your eyes."
The cobalt chuckled humbly. "I try."
"So, where's Roy, exactly?"
Not knowing himself, Marth looked around until both of them spied the redhead some ways away. When they moved closer, they found him kneeling beside an almost forgotten, wounded Pit.
"You okay?" He inspected the tear in the angel's wing, blood staining his pure white feathers like paint. He hissed at the wound's intensity. "Ouch..."
Pit was sniffling, mainly as a reaction to the pain, but also otherwise. "I-I'm so sorry... I-I messed up so bad..."
"It's okay, Pit, it's alright," Roy assured, a blue Soft Flame flickering in his palm. He held it against the injury before continuing. "You did your best. He had an unfair advantage anyway." He pulled away, and all traces of the wound, even the stains on the feathers, had disappeared. "Don't worry about it. He's caught, and that's all that matters."
Pit rubbed his nose. "O... okay."
Roy helped him to his feet, then turned to face Marth and the man beside him, whom he recognized as an SASD official, and grinned in greeting.
"Roy, my boy! Splendid work!" he praised, slapping his shoulder. "You've helped us with the capture of one of England's most notorious poachers. The Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists (4) thanks you kindly."
"W-what about everything else?" Pit asked timidly. "All the others...?"
"Ah, those organizations thank you as well!" He gestured to the other trucks in which the others we being led to for safeguarding. A greater number of transport vehicles belonged to the WFMBW (5), where elephants, camelopards, dogs, cats, rabbits, and various other animals were being taken to a better place. Various humane societies were rounding together the humanoid subjects. Seeing all this, Pit sighed in relief at the knowledge that none of them would be neglected.
"Okay, so..." Roy gained the man's attention again. "The dragons are on their way to the pick-up point right now."
"Good, good, my group is there waiting to take them." His gaze ran over the three. "...I trust at the absence of your forth comrade that he is escorting them?"
"That's right."
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"Come on, everybody, this way! THIS way!"
Link whistled to the hoard of dragons, directing them like a police officer would direct traffic. His instructions shifted between English and Dragon Tongue, something his companions were surprised to see him learn so quickly.
"That's right! Everybody head on over to the mountains!" he called out, then roared, "Everyone make your way to the mountains! Through that gap, right there!"
He watched them clear a dusty path between the rocky cliffs, leading into a ravine that would end at the pickup-point. His duty done, the elf sighed in content and satisfaction of his importance. He turned on his heel to return to the others, only to freeze in mid-step as he looked downwards.
A small, off-white dragon, no bigger than a kitten, whimpered softly, confused tears draining from its golden eyes, which stared up at Link helplessly. It quivered in fear, its large, furry ears drooped and its orange wings folded at its sides.
Knowing it to be an uncertain wanderer from the crowd of dragons they had just released, Link bent down slightly and gave the creature a warm smile. "It's okay, little guy." He glanced at the hooked tail. "Oh, girl. My bad. You're free. Go on, you can go now."
The tiny dragon did not move.
"Go ahead, go."
She withdrew, looking cutely frightened. Link tried to ignore this.
"Go already!"
She yelped and back in further, hiding her face behind her wings. Even he stopped, surprised at his own loss of temper. And then he got a good look at her exposed sides, where a row of tiny red stones ran down to the tip of her tail on both sides. That feature he knew was distinguished in only one species of European dragon.
"A St. George Dragon...?" (6) But she was so tiny! Unless...
...could she have been a lost little chick?
Suddenly her saddened face tugged relentlessly at Link's heartstrings, and he knelt down beside her, braving a caress atop her head, between her two small horns. She instantly moved closer until she was in his arms for security. He could feel her deep shivering.
"Aw... you poor thing..." he cooed gently, rubbing her behind the ears. "The big outside world's scary, isn't it?" Judging by her size, she couldn't have been hatched that long ago, and he doubted she had received any love or care. And she had to be taught how to hunt and fly and survive before they could just let her go...
"...don't worry," Link soothed, smiling. "I'll take care of you..." He looked her over for an appropriate name, spotting the stones. "...Ruby."
The dragon dubbed Ruby trilled happily, and with a nuzzle against his chest, the band was sealed.
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"Sir!" A worker called to the SASD man. "We just received word that the dragons have reached the rendezvous point."
"Good, good." He faced the group. "With that, I must be off. Good work, all of you." Waving smoothly, he climbed into the commercial Bentley, and it rolled away to carry out business elsewhere. As Roy watched the trucks all pull away, their task complete with nothing left behind, the mamkute inhaled, then let out a completely satisfied sigh with a grin.
"So... who's this guy?"
Roy blinked, glancing over to find Marth and Pit standing, confused, above the dragon he had brought out. He slipped in between the two as they all knelt down beside it.
"Someone who looked like they needed some help."
"Isn't that an Eastern Temple Worm?" (7) Marth scrutinized the dragon carefully. "...aren't they supposed to be bigger than this?"
"Yeah," Roy replied musingly, waiting for either of them to figure it out.
And it would be Pit. "...hey, he's got red hair here, see? Is that his plume, or is he a half-dragon?"
Roy grinned at the angel. "It's hard to tell, but you spot it." He leaned closer to the victim. "He's a half-dragon, alright. I think his subconscious hasn't had enough experience, so it hasn't responded to change him back." He placed his hands on the mamkute's chest. "So I'll give it a shot."
They didn't bother him as he shut his eyes, sending his own subconscious in, a skill only elite half-dragons can perform. Searching about, he took a hold on the youth's subconscious once he found it, ordering an alteration. A single firm command was all that was needed to force the other into submission.
They watched as the serpent grew slightly in size, his tail fanning out into thin legs and claws retracting into hands. The wings shrank into his back and his face melted into a flat human face, his complexion pale and his thin-slit eyes and youthful features absolutely worn out. As his scales melted away, he wore an outfit that matched his colors: golden, loose-bottom pants with dark sneakers and a deep red, no-sleeved shirt, trimmed with gold and buttoned up the right side of his torso in an Asian style of intricacy.
The three looked over the youth in mild allure. They hadn't met any other half-dragon besides their old friend Ryka, so it was a mild surprise to actually see another one.
"...wow," Marth finally muttered.
"What happened to him...?" Pit questioned softly.
"Got caught by Feenie, looks like." Roy brushed the boy's red locks out of his face. His hair was cut short and feathered messily, thin and stringy. "He was probably trying what we did. The SASD officials didn't come for him, so he must be independent."
"Poor kid," Marth lamented. "Probably got in over his head."
"What're we gonna do with him?" Pit asked, growing increasingly curious the more he looked over the boy.
Roy sighed tiredly. "We'll take him back to the hotel with us and wait and see when he wakes up."
Footsteps in the grass brought their gazes back up as their forth companion approached. "Hey! What'd I miss?"
"Hey, Link." Roy looked away, then paused after what he just saw registered through. To make sure he hadn't gone senile, he turned back, and sure enough, there sat a small dragon in Link's arms staring back, ears perked up in curiosity.
Noticing their looks, Link grinned. "Cute, isn't she?"
Roy sighed gruffly, ignoring how Pit made a squeak of agreement and hurried in to pet the she-dragon. "Link..."
The elf's face fell. "What?"
"I told you not to...!"
"But she called out to me!" Link paused as he realized how absurd that sounded. "...She looked so goshdarn helpless, Roy! I couldn't help it!"
"She was supposed to go with the rest of the dragons! Go take her back!"
"I can't!"
"Why the hell not?"
"Because she's a St. George!"
Roy opened his mouth to rebuttal, but it was left suspended in mute surprise. He closed it slowly as he watched Pit's caressing fingers glide over the precious red stones running down her side, proof of Link's claim.
Marth crossed his arms loosely. "Well, he's right. And St George that size can only be a chick, three days old at best."
Roy let out a heavy, defeated sigh.
"Look, I know what to do," Link pleaded. "I gotta teach her to hunt and fly and use fire and stuff like that, and then let her go when she's ready, right? She'll be my responsibility, I promise!" Roy glanced up. "...please let me take care of her. Please."
To his surprise, Roy chuckled at his unneeded begging pout. "Alright, alright, fine."
Link beamed ear to ear. Marth nodded at the good judgment. Pit excitedly retold the decision to the dragon chick, who seemed very pleased, trilling happily with a wagging tail.
"So, you given her a name yet?" Roy asked, scratching her under the chin.
Link grinned. "Ruby."
Roy deadpanned, then gave the blonde an inward glance. "Oh, that's so totally original."
"Hey, it's what first came to mind, and she seemed to like it, so, yeah." He laughed as Ruby nuzzled him from his collarbone up to his lower jaw.
"She's really cute," Pit cooed, smiling up at Link. "I know she's your responsibility, but I'll help if you need any."
"Good to know. Thanks, Pit."
As Marth lifted the unconscious half-dragon over his shoulder, he grew concerned at Roy's sulked face. "What's wrong, Roy?"
"Ah, nothing, I'm just tired." The youth rubbed his eyes and yawned, facing his group with a sleepy grin. "Good work, guys. Now let's get back to the hotel and get some sleep."
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(1) I don't know much about the Gargouille, not as much info has been given about it. I believe its name is French, so it would originate in the Mid Europe region.
(2) Knucker (Draco troglodytes): Western Europe region, serpentine body (up to 30 feet long), 4 legs, vestigial wings, prefers damp holes and wells than rocky mountain caves as a habitat.
(3) Lindworm (Draco serpentalis): Mid Asia region, serpentine body (up to 35 feet long), 2 front legs, lives in deserts, prairies, or steppes.
(4) The Secret and Ancient Society of Dragonologists (SASD) is an organization based in England, its goal to protect dragons in the European region. According to my own imagination, they're the largest of the Dragon-saving groups, with institutes in various corners of the world, though they aren't the only one. The National Dragonologists Society (NDS) is US's dragon group.
(5) The Wizards' Familiars and Mystical Beast Watchers, what I created. Familiars are regular animals a wizard befriends to help them in their studies. (© Wizardology)
(6) St. George Dragons are own by GB. More detail on this dragon will be presented next chapter.
(7) Eastern Temple Worm (Draco orentalis serpentalis): Mid Asia region, large serpentine body (up to 45-50 feet long, 3 feet thick), 2 front legs, vestigial wings, claims abandoned temples or other structures as territory in groups of 2 to 5.
Regular font info is from the Dragonology series ©. Italic info is from Graeme Base's "The Discovery of Dragons" ©.
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A/N: DAMN, that's a lotta notes. XD I'm getting heavy on the dragon business, so I gotta make sure everyone's on the same level.
Roy: What a neeeeeeeeeeeeeeerd...
Link: (wearing glasses now) And what's so wrong with being a nerd?
Roy: NEEEEEEEEEEERD.
Eliwood: Roy Princeton Altea! Be nice!
Roy: ...okay. (sulk)
Whew... okay, working on chappie 2! Please review!