If any place showcased the deadliness of the Beast Maker wildlife, Misty Bog did so in droves.
Boars, Attack Frogs, ravenous plants - and those were just creatures the locals remembered. The perpetual mist that gave this realm its namesake did not help either, especially in conjunction with the unnervingly deep waters beneath. Even by Beast Makers' standards, this place constituted a death trap, which said something about the residents.
Why Damon of all dragons chose a place like this to live in, Cleetus would never understand. Then again, like with the Beast Makers here it went to show the kind of resilience the guy had.
Speaking of whom, where was he? The forest green dragon ambled his way towards the small pier, yellow eyes searching. Rosco said he saw him coming this way, so where – ah, there he was, right there at the end of the dock!
Cleetus wasted no time shambling down the planks, making sure to go at an even pace so the other dragon would have time to notice his approach and not get spooked in turn.
"Oh Cleetus!" Damon exclaimed in surprise upon hearing footsteps and turning to discover his neighbor coming towards him. "I didn't think you'd be visiting today."
The leaf-covered dragon shrugged before copping a squat next to Damon. "Just wanted to check up on ya. You been pretty quiet since Bruno came back from that meetin' the otha' day. Did he have a word with ya?"
Damon nodded his head. "As a matter of fact, he wished to present to me an opportunity. Apparently, since the Forgotten Worlds is safe for us dragons to access again, there's been talk among the leaders of letting us visit the Ecologists, particularly us with mixed heritage tied to them."
Some moments passed in silence while Cleetus waited for Damon to continue. When the bog wizard didn't, the hillbilly cocked a brow. "You thinkin' about goin'?"
More silence. Damon started to gently kick his feet back and forth, a common tic of his indicative of the dragon's nervousness. "Personally, I feel more inclined to sit out traveling all that way to the Ecologists."
"Really?" Cleetus tilted his leafy hat up in mild wonder. "Ah'd have figured you'd be rarin' for a chance ta tag along." Especially after everything the poor guy had weathered in the past.
A creaky laugh left Damon. "You have me there, old friend. Old habits perhaps. Still, it would be nice to visit my roots just once, to be around dragons like me for just one day."
Cleetus couldn't stop a piteous frown from forming. 'Nice' would be an understatement for Damon in his opinion. To an outside viewer, the purple-bearded Elder looked so out of place here with his wizarding hat and potion bottles, like a Magic Crafter that took a wrong turn somewhere.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Once a resident of Magic Crafters, Damon had chosen to switch locale to here in wake of some…unpleasant altercations. Considering he'd had no Beast Maker training to his name at the time, one would understandably wonder if he'd been insane to choose Misty Bog of all places to settle.
However, Damon for all his meek demeanor possessed a level of perseverance and fortitude that earned him respect from the Beast Makers, judging by his penchant for traveling through even hazardous areas for potion ingredients. That and maybe he did have a few screws loose.
In fact, he had been a constant for so long, to imagine this place without him felt wrong. Indeed, a soft hum escaped Damon as he faced his fellow denizen. "I suppose I'm a little too used to this dreary old place."
Cleetus chuckled and returned his view to the bog, deep fondness in his eyes. For all its danger, this place was still home. "Ain't we all?"
"Since we're on the topic of roots, I'm looking forward to whoever will be our mystery guest." Damon cocked a brow at his companion, curious to hear his input. "Has Bruno given any details as to their identity? He was rather tight-lipped when I asked."
A nonchalant grunt left Cleetus who shrugged his hefty shoulders. "Didn't need to; Ertha gladly shared some herself. Somebody by the name of Jesse; botanist if I heard right; nice fella but apparently, he's some kinda wallflower." He pursed lips and smirked. "No pun intended by the way."
Damon clucked his teeth in concern. "Oh dear. Hopefully she and Symone won't smother this lad. You know how they can be."
"Any worse than Matt?" Cleetus chortled. "Cuz you know that boy's gonna try fattenin' this Jesse up, even if he's as skinny as a mountain – and according to Ertha this is one big boy we'll be dealing with."
The green dragon only hoped this characteristic wouldn't encourage the rowdier of the Beast Makers to challenge their guest to roughhousing or other similar tomfoolery. These worlds weren't exactly a playground.
A sudden pop caught Cleetus' hearing and drew his attention back to Damon, who he witnessed guzzle down a pink liquid from an unplugged beaker.
Most others would have started and rushed to stop him. Cleetus used to do the same; he might not have been a scientific type, but even he knew those beakers weren't meant for that kind of use. Good luck trying to convince Damon of that though, as the displaced dragon always gave the same stubborn response: "if it weren't to be done, I wouldn't still be around to rebuke the point."
In a better use of his breath, Cleetus instead shot for this question: "On the topic of dealin' wit' others, ya think we're ready to handle whatever troublemakers are bein' sent our way?"
Damon held a finger up, still in the middle of draining the beaker. Upon finishing, he pulled out a napkin from out of nowhere and delicately wiped his mouth as though in a high-class restaurant rather than the middle of a swamp.
"It'd be better to ponder who we would have to handle. For all we know, Gnasty could return to simply crystallize us all again." After all, that Ripto fellow managed to find a way back to life, why not someone else? "Or perhaps the Rhynocs could mount a surprise attack from the plateaus."
"Or maybe they'll have some idiot stroll in, expectin' to brute-force their dang way through only to get humiliated." Cleetus stated all this point-blank, leaf strand balancing between his lips.
Damon merely stared back and tried twice to response, raising a finger each time, only to come up short. He…had to give his neighbor that one. Aside from the Sorceress, dragonkind's enemies (at least in recent years) hadn't been known for their sparkling intellect.
Still, that didn't mean they could afford complacency considering the stakes.
"Perhaps it would serve us well to enlist outside help?" After all, no said their enemies were the only ones allowed to have surprises in store.
Cleetus regarded Damon for a few moments and then turned his face towards the pale green sky to mull the idea over, chewing thoughtfully. Not a bad suggestion, the Beast Maker had to admit, albeit super-risky. The candidate would have to be someone who knows how to tussle with dangerous wildlife, or at the least somebody with serious gumption.
Then he got an idea, an ever so crazy idea, symbolized by a firefly that happened to flit over his head and light up at the perfect time.
"Spyro's faun friend." The deep-green dragon noted his companion's blank expression. "The red-headed one."
Damon eyed Cleetus as though the other dragon lost his mind. A faun; not a yeti or even an armed bird but a faun.
"You based this decision off Spyro's stories, didn't you?"
The purple dragon had not been shy recounting his tales to Matthias, who'd been known to often drop by the Artisans' homeworld to swap recipes with Delvin and Alvar, and Matthias himself could never keep his mouth shut when it came to his favorite stories.
"Hey now, that boy may weave tall tales, but he never lies," Cleetus retorted. A pause followed. "I'm still talkin' about Spyro by the way."
Cleetus took note of the persistent skepticism on Damon's face.
"Ah, yer focusin' on how the lil' lady only seemed to play support." Made sense since they were all dragons and thus tended to view things from a strength-based viewpoint, physical and magical. "Believe it or not, Matt got to chattin' with her during his last visit. Apparently, she knows a thing or two about handlin' wildlife."
"Simply knowing doesn't always suffice," Damon responded in a melancholy tone.
He rubbed on a spot on his left bicep, hidden by the sleeve of his dark green shirt, where'd he'd once received a rather nasty laceration from an Attack Frog early into his new tenure in the Beast Makers' realm. He didn't want to imagine what sort of injuries someone much smaller than him could incur.
"There's a reason your clan is called the Beast Makers after all."
Fair enough point, Cleetus admitted although the swampy hillbilly still felt his companion was missing his point. He regarded Damon with a more insistent look.
"Believe it or not, she is from a world filled with ornery critters of its own based on what Matthias told me. In fact, she's one of the advisors for her country's current ruler."
What? Damon jerked his head towards his fellow dragon in surprise.
Cleetus noticed and chucked. "No joke. Mind you, we probably won't be seeing the little lady consulting a Killer Tree into submission." Impressive and hilarious as that would be. "But don't forget there's more ta tamin' a creature than raw strength."
Damon rolled his eyes. As if he hadn't been trying to make that exact point himself. The wizard opened his mouth to protest further.
"And if she does end up struggling, we'll all be there to help." Cleetus sidled his eyes to spare Damon a knowing look and grin. "Like how we were for a certain outcast."
This reminder elicited a deep blush to dominate Damon's face, urging the wizard to pull his wide-brimmed hat over it. He could have done without having to recall that period of his life here. Cleetus' chuckling did not help either as the green dragon pat his back in an assuring manner.
"See it this way: few places be more dangerous than our own realm. We play our cards right, that lil' lady will be headin' back home wiser and stronger, with plenty o' new knowledge and tricks to teach folks – and ain't teachin' but one of the secrets to survival?"
That is true, Damon realized as he raised back his hat, revealing eyes full of thought. He'd spent so long as a nomadic hermit that sometimes he forgot how capable outsiders could be. Perhaps Cleetus is right. Maybe I am simply being overprotective.
"And what better way to start her off than a lesson on how ta wrassle wit' some Monkey Boys in Tree Tops?" Cleetus offered with a languid stretch, missing how his neighbor gawked at him, wide-eyed.
Then again, Damon thought in concern, a little paranoia never hurt anyone.
Note: I decided to frame Elora as an authority figure for Avalar. Not at the direct top, mind you, but someone with a decent amount of clout despite her comparatively young age, on account of how she had intro and outro interactions cut from each level in Spyro 2.
For reference pictures of my OCs:
Artisans - ~professorrat/submissions/1927291/artisan-residents-ocs
Peace Keepers - ~professorrat/submissions/1927292/peace-keeper-residents-ocs
Magic Crafters - ~professorrat/submissions/1927294/magic-crafter-residents-ocs
Ecologists - ~professorrat/submissions/1944688/ecologist-residents-ocs
Beast Makers - ~professorrat/submissions/1927295/beast-maker-residents-ocs
Dream Weavers - ~professorrat/submissions/1927289/dream-weaver-residents-ocs
For the world map - ~professorrat/submissions/2054834/spyro-world-map-surface