For a week, the training went about as miserably as they'd expected. Every morning they were woken up at the crack of dawn by Chase's cats, escorted to breakfast, and then brought to the battling hall where Chase proceeded to beat them into battered pulps for an hour or two. He never allowed them to use their elemental powers in these fights, and in the rare instances any of them got frustrated enough to try, he would turn his apparently endless fighting prowess on that one unfortunate monk alone. Then they were given an hour to bathe and redress before going back to the hall for more specific and actual training, where Chase didn't actively try to bruise every muscle in their bodies.
After that it was lunch (Chase never joined them), a short rest, and then to testing their elemental powers. These tests had started out relatively simple but had taken on a difficulty curve that seemed to have turned ninety degrees upward. A few hours of that lead to strict meditation, dinner, and finally - finally - Chase's irritable dismissal for the day. Originally they had planned to take these opportunities to explore his massive lair, but after every day they were too exhausted to go much further than each other's rooms to talk.
Their exhaustion had nearly made them lose track of the days, so it was a pleasant surprise for them when Guan strode into the dining hall during breakfast, spear in hand and Dojo coiled around his neck.
"Master Monk Guan! Dojo!" Omi leapt up from his spot at the table and (almost) ran toward them, followed more slowly by the others.
"Kids!" Dojo slithered to the floor and practically hurled himself at Omi. "You're all okay!"
"That's a matter of opinion." Raimundo crouched down and let Dojo latch onto his neck in turn. "I don't think I've ever been this sore in my life."
"But you're not missing any limbs, right? Or woken up in a soup pot?"
"I think you're really the only one who has to worry about that, Dojo," said Kimiko with a weary laugh. "How is everything?"
"Well enough," said Guan, as Dojo moved on to hug Kimiko and then Clay. "Master Fung sends you his regards. I see you're all in one piece."
"One well-tenderized piece," Clay said with a grimace as Dojo leapt off one of his bruises. "Every day's a new adventure in findin' pulled muscles."
"The harder you train, the greater your results will be." Guan turned his head to look at the upper balcony. "Which, I have no doubt, is the intention."
They followed his gaze and saw Chase leaning over the balcony's edge, dressed as casually as ever, matching Guan's glare with a fierce one of his own. Dojo instinctively coiled closer around Omi's shoulders.
"It's the plan." There was a slight hiss to Chase's voice. "Of course, my plans do frequently seem to run into stumbling blocks. I'll assume you're not here to reclaim them."
"You know I'm here to check on their progress." That he was also there to ensure they were still alive and uncorrupted didn't need to be said.
"Yes, of course." Chase stood up straight but never stopped glaring. "Fortunately, I have other things that require my attention at the moment. Let the apprentices tell you what you need to hear first; you and I will speak later." His glare flickered into a sneer. "And don't think your training is cancelled for the day, either, monks." With that, he strode off into the shadows.
"Chase - " Guan watched him disappear and sighed. "He never changes."
For a moment, he watched the shadows in silence; the monks glanced at him and each other, unsure of what to say or do. Then he turned back to them with a smile and hefted his spear.
"Well then, who wants to show me what they've learned?"
"What? You want to fight?" Raimundo gaped at Guan. "Dude, I was hoping you were going to get us out of training, not give us more!"
"It's not so much training as demonstrating. Besides, I won't be quite as vicious as I'm sure he always is."
"I will go first, Master Monk Guan!" Omi, invigorated by the arrival of one of the people he admired most, bounded toward the door that lead to the training hall. "You will be amazed at the progress I have made in so short a time!"
"If you're not too sore to show off." Clay followed Omi, who scowled at him. "What? Y'can't say you're not tryin' to show off here."
"Count me out." Raimundo slumped back in one of the chairs and waved a dismissive hand at the others. "I'm gonna take this rare opportunity to recover. Come get me when you're done, okay?"
"Oh no you don't," Kimiko said, shoving him out of the chair from behind. "If I have to train, then so do you!"
Ignoring Raimundo's protests, she pushed him down the hall after Clay and Omi, followed in turn by a faintly smiling Guan.
.-.-
"You spend an hour each morning beating them into the floor."
"And the walls. And the ceiling, if I'm in a good mood."
"What is the point of that, Chase?" Guan fixed Chase with a disapproving glower from across the room, following his every movement carefully.
"To test and stretch their limits." Chase kept his back to Guan, gloved fingers moving deftly across small, unlabeled jars to deposit pinches of tea leaves in a single pot. "I'm sure you noticed their reaction times have improved, as has their creativity."
"And their aggressiveness." Guan tried to see what Chase was doing without moving from his spot. "As if they're afraid there won't be any time to strike if they hesitate for so much as a second."
"There might not be. Not from him." The snarl in Chase's voice made a nearby tiger lift its head from its paws, but the tone had vanished by his next sentence. "Better that they be prepared and paranoid than overconfident and dead."
"I don't disagree, but there must be better ways to impart such lessons."
"What do you suggest I do, then?" Chase glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "Guide them patiently and reward them at the slightest success? Encourage their every tiny step in the right direction? Waste time ensuring they feel like they're actually gaining ground over the smallest insignificant details?"
"There is no harm in encouragement or patience, even for you."
"Oh, I know all about patience," Chase spat, picking up the larger pot and shaking it briefly. "As I'm sure you do, too."
Guan only scowled harder.
"For all their many, many failings, they are learning." Chase dumped the mixed leaves into a strainer balanced on the top of a teapot and slowly poured hot water over it. "Their endurance has improved and they are picking up tricks to protect themselves. I'm also teaching them some of my deepest martial arts secrets, which I'm sure you will never fully appreciate."
"It's an honorable sacrifice," said Guan, not rising to the bait, "and one that will be remembered well should the Dragons succeed."
"Should they succeed?" The pitcher of hot water hit the tabletop with a thunk. "It sounds like you're barely more confident than I am."
"I believe they can defeat Hannibal should they face him. What he intends to raise … " Guan tried to find a kinder way to say he had no faith, but Chase already knew.
"I see." He removed the strainer and put the lid on the teapot to pour out two steaming cups. "How nice to know you aren't as blind as you used to be."
"I have never been blind."
"Very short-sighted, then." Chase turned, a small cup in each hand, and offered one to Guan. When the other man didn't move, he glowered. "It's tea, Guan. I assume you haven't stopped drinking it."
"Your assurance to not kill the apprentices doesn't extend to me."
"What point would there be to killing you? And with tea? If I ever kill you, it's going to be with my bare hands, old friend."
Guan's jaw tightened almost without him realizing it, but he kept himself calm. Chase wanted to rile and anger him, possibly to provoke him into a fight; he couldn't surrender to such obvious ploys.
"You'd do it to rid the world of a force of Good," he said, a little sardonically.
The hint of smugness dropped off Chase's face in an instant. There was a flicker of irritation, but like Guan, he kept himself under control. Or mostly so, anyway - he drank one of the cups of tea in one swallow and crushed the other one in his hand, letting the shards fall and the tea pool at his feet.
"You still think me so petty," he said dryly, then set down the cup and stripped off his tea-stained glove. "This way."
They left the small chamber and proceeded down a long hall that was somewhat ominous in structure - dark, arched, and glowing oddly in the torchlight. In silence they passed through a final arch leading to the massive center of Chase's lair. The stark contrast of blues and greens, of white architecture and growing plants, to the shadowy darkness of before made Guan squint slightly to get used to the new light. Chase only let his pupils narrow.
"For the few times I've been here, I always marvel at this place," Guan said, looking around. "It's not something I'd expected of you."
"Evil isn't relegated to obsidian architecture and fountains of blood. You can be stylish and monstrous without sacrificing too much of one or the other." Guan noticed that, despite his dismissive tone, Chase was preening slightly. "Of course, it can only come in limited quantities."
"Of course." They were silent for a while before he spoke again. "When do you intend to start teaching them their elemental control?"
"Soon." Chase made his way to a balcony and put his hands on it, one gloved, the other bared to the mist rising from a nearby waterfall. "They already believe they're masters of their elements. I will enjoy pulling that belief out from under them."
"Without disastrous results." Guan joined him at the balcony but kept a safe distance of a few feet.
"If that destroys them, then they weren't worthy of being Dragons in the first place. Environmentally, who's to say they haven't already caused any number of ecological disasters?" Chase glanced over with a wry smirk. "Twisting the elements to their liking, burning down forests and upsetting rivers, causing earthquakes and typhoons … for how much you harp on balance and control, it certainly seems like they don't even consider the ramifications of their actions."
"And this concerns you?"
"Not really. If anything, they're getting a head start on my work for me. Though they might also be infringing on my territory."
"There hasn't been much time to teach them these things." Guan set his spear against the balcony and leaned on the railing. "They started late, but they learned faster than any group we've had before. In a year they've progressed as far as it took the two of us three years to go. With the re-emergence of Wuya and Hannibal, they had to get the Shen Gong Wu and protect them before anyone had a chance to teach them their standard lessons." He glanced sidelong at Chase. "You, of course, didn't help matters much."
"How dare you lump me in with a half-rate witch and a bean," said Chase without a hint of real offense. "Don't try to blame me for your loss, Guan. We fought on even ground, and it was your own mistakes that cost you."
"And when we fought on uneven ground," said Guan, "it was you who lost despite the advantage."
Chase made a dissatisfied noise and glared at the flickers of memories playing out in front of his eyes. How he remembered that loss. The good, reinvigorated with strength and power, joining the fight, mocking him, suffering only temporary disadvantages.
And repelling the beast.
With a snarl he turned to fix Guan with an icy glare. The sudden change in attitude was not lost on the Master Monk, who took hold of his spear in preparation for an attack.
"Have you gotten what you came for?" Chase asked, his voice disdainful. "Are you satisfied with their condition and progression? If so, I must ask you to get out. And take the dragon with you."
Guan opened his mouth to speak - then reconsidered and closed it. He gave Chase an even look for a few long seconds, turned, and headed back down the hall they'd passed through before, leaving Chase to stand among the waterfalls and gently tumbling ivy and seethe inside.
.-.-
The next day, after grudgingly dragging themselves to breakfast with the realization that this was the beginning of yet another week of grueling training, the monks arrived at the battle chamber to see Chase with three tigers.
"No way. I am not fighting a tiger again," Raimundo said immediately.
"No, you're not," Chase agreed, much to everyone's surprise. "But only you won't. Today, Shoku Warrior, you begin your elemental training. The rest of you will continue your standard training with them." He motioned to the cats sprawled lazily around his feet. "Tomorrow I will train a different one of you, and so on until I think you're all appropriately prepared."
Omi almost objected before remembering that yes, Raimundo had gotten the role of Shoku Warrior, and yes, that meant he was technically the most advanced among them, and therefore would be trained first. But it still stung, and he tried to hold back his glare as Raimundo went through a near-instantaneous reversal of emotions (excitement at not fighting the tigers followed by mortification at being trained one-on-one by Chase).
"Uh … I know we've fought them cats before, but how are they gonna teach us what you've been teachin' us?" Clay asked warily.
"It won't be exactly the same, but you'll pick up some new defensive techniques. There's never an inappropriate time to learn how to fight off a pack of furious tigers." Chase grinned to himself for a moment, then turned his expression back to condescending flatness and stalked out of the room, Raimundo following warily and wincing at a sudden yelp from Kimiko as one of the tigers tackled her.
"Never an inappropriate time? Really? 'Cause I can think of a couple right now."
"It's not your concern at the moment, so be quiet." Chase lead him through winding halls and up staircases that twisted and bent back in on themselves. By the time they finally reached their destination - a small, chilly alcove with a ceiling that came to a conical point - Raimundo was panting. When Chase sat down, he did too, just across from the other man and not quite willing to show how grateful he was at the momentary reprieve.
The room was lit by one small brazier hanging from the ceiling by a chain. It came down about four feet, stopping only a foot above Chase's head when he was standing. The result was an eerie, shadowy light that kept making Raimundo glance at flickers in case something was hiding in the solid rock walls. For all he knew, there was something there. He wouldn't put it past any of the evildoers they'd battled.
"The wind," Chase said suddenly, drawing Raimundo's wavering attention back to him, "is a powerful element that encompasses far more than just the driving force of the air. It is the air, and the weather, and the motes that make up every spark of life in the world. It is necessary for life and often takes it away. It is violently destructive, unstable, transient, and uncontrollable. In turn, Dragons of the Wind are often arrogant, flighty, greedy, and have aspirations far out of their reach."
Raimundo rankled at the succinct dismissal of any even remotely good traits he might have had.
"Oh yeah? And how would you know?" he snapped, feeling a little childish for it but still stung.
"Centuries of experience fighting Dragons-in-training," Chase said. "And because I was once destined to become a Dragon of the Wind."
All of Raimundo's witty retorts failed him. He just stared.
"Don't be so surprised. I'm sure you can see numerous parallels between us."
"Uh … numerous?" He doused a sudden wave of suspicious and unsure feelings in sarcastic irritation. "I don't think so. There's like … one, dude. We both made the mistake of joining the forces of Evil, and in my case? It was temporary."
"But you did join," Chase pointed out. "And for far more sympathetic reasons than I did. You disobeyed your master in an attempt to save him and were punished for it. You were belittled and mocked by your peers for your inferior status. The only mistake you made that I can see was your choice in joining Wuya rather than someone of a higher evil echelon."
"Like you." Raimundo sounded unimpressed.
"Like me." There was a flicker of a smile on Chase's face. "I who traded my soul for youth and power. You would have been hard-pressed to find a way out of my control, but Wuya is extremely bad at handling subordinates."
"Tell me something I don't know." Raimundo almost rolled his eyes at the thought of just how dysfunctional the relationship between Wuya and Jack was regardless of how much time passed. "That's still only one similarity."
"You want power. You want control. You want to be lauded and admired by those around you. Most importantly, you want to be a hero."
"You wanted to be a hero?"
"Of course I did. Why else would I have joined the temple in the first place?"
"I don't think about it much. It's not exactly something that's on my mind … you know, ever."
"Naturally." Chase eyed Raimundo with a slight sneer. "To go back to where I was, Dragons of the Wind often fall from their path thanks to their own impatience and fluctuating nature. They're no more likely than any other Dragon to turn to the Heylin, but by their nature they're often morally ambiguous and have questionable lives and histories. It makes others suspicious almost immediately."
He reached between them and started scrawling wavy lines in the dust on the stone floor with one black-gloved nail.
"But, as I know you've experienced, that can also be used for the good of the world. A warrior of absolutely pure virtue is practically useless in this day and age."
Raimundo almost smirked. The time he'd tricked the bean into a complete and total loss just by pretending to have turned his back on his friends again was a victory he was never going to let go, even knowing that he'd paid for it. Earning Hannibal's ire hadn't gone well for him, but the guy couldn't get to him again. Not through his fear, anyway, and that was everyone's biggest weakness, right?
"This is why you're the closest to ascending to the role of a Dragon, and why these lessons may go more smoothly for you than the others, so long as you continue to be aware of that darkness that sets you apart."
"Without letting certain people talk me into letting it take over?"
"If you think you can handle it, oh mighty Shoku Warrior." Chase smiled, or at least looked like he was smiling. There were far too many sharp, glinting white teeth visible for Raimundo's liking.
"I can handle anything you throw at me." Raimundo smirked back and tried to keep his cool.
"You haven't been able to up until now. One week's worth of training won't save you if I decide to tear out your throat. You're especially vulnerable right here, where space is limited and you can't simply fly away to escape danger. Your personal weaknesses notwithstanding, a Wind Dragon's abilities are dependent on how much room there is and how much air is available. Too little of either and you're trapped."
"I get the space thing, but if there's not enough air, can't I just make some? Clap my hands and - "
"No. Wind and Earth can't be created out of 'nothing', if you have to call it that. There is water in the air, and fire only needs the right spark, but earth is earth and wind either exists and can be moved or simply isn't there."
"That sucks." The idea that Omi and Kimiko would always have a free pass with their elements made Raimundo - not jealous, of course not, he wouldn't be jealous of them, but just a little irritated.
"Everything natural has limits." Chase lifted his hand from the spirals he'd been drawing and eyed the results. "And most things unnatural, as well."
Raimundo glanced down at the scrawling in the dust. There were long spirals swirling in among each other as the wind, and curved lines bisected by other curved lines carved out clouds and mountains.
"Okay, I get it. I'm limited. What's your point?"
"To make you aware of it. Testing those limits and your weaknesses will come later." Chase fixed him with a level glare. His gold irises gleamed oddly in the flickering torchlight, and his pupils, dark and snakelike, were nearly depthless in the shadows. "Today, I judge whether or not you can control all the facets of your powers, even if you can barely do so."
"What exactly is there that you think I don't know how to do?" Raimundo raised a suspicious eyebrow.
"Control yourself."
"Seriously?" He almost laughed, but Chase wasn't smiling. "You think I need self-control?" He grinned and followed suit as Chase stood up. "So, hey, I've got this kettle back home, maybe you'd like to call it - "
Without warning, Chase slammed a fist into the wall opposite of the way they'd come in. Raimundo jumped, expecting to be attacked for being hilariously witty, but to his surprise the wall only shuddered and a part of it dropped out and down to reveal a panoramic view of the bleak, colorless landscape that surrounded the lair. He peered out; below them, the glowing fires of the lair's monstrous face sent up waves of heat.
They were inside one of the spikes at the very top of the cave, just beneath the smoking lava pit.
"I want you to create a storm," Chase said after a theatrical pause to let Raimundo take in the unusual but impressive scenery.
"That's it? No problem, yo." Raimundo cracked his knuckles. "One dreary, dusty thunderstorm, coming right - "
"And then I want you to bring it to a halt, the way it would die down in nature."
"Uh … okay. Any particular reason why?"
"I told you. Control." Chase stepped behind him, coming almost uncomfortably close. "I've seen you tear up forests and bring down ruins with blasts of wind. I have no doubt that you can destroy things with your powers, and you can fight with them in a certain low-brow way. But I don't believe that you can stop yourself and your destruction once you've gotten started."
"I really think you should talk to the kettle - "
"Shut up." Raimundo snickered anyway, until he felt a hand squeezing the bones of his shoulder painfully hard. "Create the storm, then bring it down - and don't attack me."
"If you come at me, I'm fighting back, dude."
"No you aren't." This was punctuated with a particularly hard squeeze, and Raimundo scrabbled at the hand on his shoulder. "You're fast, aren't you? Learn how to multitask, or I'll throw you into the volcano, sacripanta."
"Wh - ?"
He didn't have time to form his question. Chase shoved Raimundo off the ledge they were standing on, forcing him to refocus his priorities into not ending up a Xiaolin pancake on the rocky outcropping below. He blasted himself into a curve, avoiding immediate death, and shot up into the clouds just above the mountain lair.
"Did he seriously just call me that?" he wondered out loud before focusing on the air around him.
There were always storms getting ready to break over the mountains; it wasn't hard to reach out and feel the currents pushing against each other, one going high and the other going low. All he had to do was speed things up a little to make the clouds grow and darken (more than they already were, anyway) and rumble with thunder and lightning. The electricity danced past him in blue-white streaks, and for a minute he wondered how much trouble he'd get into for trying to fry Chase before the fight really started. Probably enough to get him thrown into the volcano, even if he missed.
So he concentrated, and focused, and was nearly knocked clean out of the air when a boulder came flying at him, missing him by a matter of inches.
"Oh, crap - "
There was Chase, hovering not too far below him, picking pieces off the mountains around his lair and hurling them directly at Raimundo. He threw another dangerously spiked one and, as Raimundo dodged, came straight at him, fists outstretched. One clipped him on the still-sore shoulder, making him spin and tumble before catching himself. As he tried to pull the wind back under control, the spiked boulder knocked his feet out from under him, Chase having caught it before it fell and hurled it back the way it came. Upside-down, he could only watch as that streak of black and gold and malice came at him again, bashing him up above the cloudline where the winds were already strong enough to start tossing him around.
"I thought you were better than this, Shoku Warrior!" Chase called, barely audible above the roaring of the wind.
"I am!" he snapped back, balancing on the air flows. "But not when I'm taking boulders to the face and can't fight back!"
"Pathetic!" With that, Chase dropped out of sight.
Raimundo turned to see if he was going to get attacked from behind but saw nothing. Warily, and quickly, he rewound the winds so the storm kept building until he was in the center of an impossibly dark thunderhead. It probably wouldn't rain - he couldn't cause that - but it was a storm nonetheless, winds twisting and turning and churning, building up into the sort of mess that normally spawned tornadoes on land and hurricanes over the ocean. The whole while he kept an eye out for any interruptions, constantly on the move and trying to sense any disruptions in the flows surrounding him.
It paid off. A disturbance made him dodge left; a boulder went past. He zig-zagged to avoid any sudden attacks by dragon monster and managed to avoid another sudden boulder instead. Then they were coming at him out of nowhere, every current warning him of an intrusion: a barrage of rocky missiles sent by someone who wouldn't be displeased in the least to see him crushed to death in midair.
As he flung himself around trying to quiet down the storm and getting bruised by not-quite-misses, Raimundo saw one of the boulders get caught in a particularly strong air stream. It rolled along for a few seconds before gravity took hold and dragged it back through the clouds. He leaped out of the way of another projectile, a plan already starting to form in his head. He could do that, couldn't he? The wind could knock people off their feet and uproot trees; why not push a couple of rocks around?
There was only one way to find out. If he screwed up, well … he was right above Chase's lair. The guy couldn't expect anything less than a little collateral damage.
Raimundo felt a fresh barrage of boulders coming at him and stayed put. He brought up both hands and concentrated. Here was the storm, a mass of wind and air, and here were the stones, pure weight and danger. They couldn't be stopped - not all of them at once - but they could be … redirected, couldn't they? All he had to do was carve a new path in the air and let the wind carry them along the invisible tracks. As the wind died, they'd have to fall, and he could bring them down with him …
The storm boomed and crackled in the air, rainless and howling. Raimundo twisted the rocks into the swirling winds above and around him, trying to keep them on as few paths as possible so he didn't have to spread himself too thin. At the same time - made all the more difficult by new boulders starting to come at him - he started bringing the storm down, realigning streams and currents to match up rather than clash. Even with what little practice he had in quieting this kind of wind, it wouldn't have been too difficult if the boulder balancing act hadn't been there.
Slowly, the clouds lightened. They were always dark given the location, but they were no longer pitch black and littered with lightning. As the winds quieted, the boulders started to drop off, rolling down unseen pathways to crash back into the mountains below. Raimundo kept them from all falling at once, feeling his entire body strain with the effort. Most of them made their way back to the rocky cliffs. A few fell into the open volcano. At the very end, one smashed into the flat entryway to the lair, accompanied by Raimundo, who did pretty much the same thing but with less shattering. He collapsed, panting, twitching, and sweating, his ears ringing with the lack of noise after being at the center of the storm.
Chase landed nearby, glancing between the fallen monk and the boulder. Raimundo heard him shove the boulder off the edge and mutter something, probably at the damage left behind. Too bad, Raimundo thought, that's your own fault and you know it. Not that he expected Chase to accept that, but there was no way he was going to take the blame after what he'd just been through.
"Adequate," he heard, the tone grudgingly approving. "I was wondering if you'd figure out a way to keep those boulders up. You could have used them to deflect others, but your method wasn't unacceptable."
"Whatever," Raimundo wheezed.
"Consider it a start." He felt a foot nudge him in the ribs. "Your accuracy needs work, as do a lot of other things. As a fully-fledged Dragon, you'll have to be able to do a lot more than stand at the center of a storm."
"Like what?"
"Stand at the center of a hurricane."
Raimundo groaned and rolled over at another nudge, glaring up at Chase.
"In the eye? That'd be easy." He sat up and grimaced. "I didn't know you spoke Portuguese."
"I speak a lot of languages. It comes with traveling the world for a millennium and a half."
"Okay, but … sacripanta? My grandpa used to call people that."
"Is it that old-fashioned?" Chase raised an eyebrow. "I suppose insults do change with time. I should drop by Brazil sometime."
"Stay out of Rio."
Chase snorted. Raimundo stood up and rubbed his sore shoulder, realizing that in six hours, his everything would be even more bruised than after that first day of training. No matter how strong he was, Chase didn't pack quite as much punch as an airborne boulder.
"I'll just call you a brash fool, then. Let's work on your speed."
"Uh." He gaped. "You're joking, right? More training? After that? No way!"
"Would you rather we worked on your agility?" Chase asked with a tinge of irritation. "We're surrounded by mountains. I can find as many boulders as I need."
"I can barely stand!"
"You'll be flying."
"Can't I take a break?"
"No." Chase clasped his hands behind his back and loomed over Raimundo (though, to Raimundo's secret delight, not by much). "Now quit whining before I get fed up and test your ability to cool lava flows while six inches from a volcano's surface."
"All right, all right. Yeesh." He limped toward the edge of the outcropping, Chase close behind him, and heaved a heavy sigh. "Y'know, I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised that you used sacripanta. I mean, it's an old geezer term, and you're pretty much an old geezer yourself - "
Raimundo jumped off the edge before Chase could grab and throw him, rocketing off into the mountain range with a snarling, furious dragon warrior on his heels.