Postby Mimichan » Tue Nov 25, 2003 10:14 pm
* I am not happy with this at all and am posting it against my better judgment. Hopefully it's not as bad as I think it is.*
Fannie slept fitfully through the pre-dawn hours. Not once, in all of her planning and preparation, had she considered the possibility that she'd end up here--in the dungeons of Aiken'yar. At first she had been too busy countering the verbal assaults of her childhood nemesis to really take stock of her situation; but, eventually, Goanuth had been relieved of his post and she'd found herself alone with nothing but an overactive imagination to keep her company.
The guard currently keeping watch barely disdained to look at her and had abruptly ordered her to "Keep Silent!" when she'd inquired about the attack on the Clan. Odd as it was, Fannie wished Goanuth hadn't left. At least she could feign bravado and focus on something other than her circumstances when he was around. In fact, there was a part of her that enjoyed their quarrels. Goanuth was so petty and so very fun to tease. And Fannie knew, deep in her heart, that he really didn't wish her harm, not truly. Oh, they would never be friends, that was certain. Goanuth was too selfish and vain. Yet, Fannie discovered something within herself that admired him. At least he knew what he wanted from life---even it never became a reality...and least he had a purpose. His desires were leading him down a path that should have been considered admirable, if not ambitious, for a male. But what did she have? A desire to be what she was not and the disdain of everyone in the Clan. She had the possibility of exile or even death and the fear of not knowing what to expect from the future. Funny that she'd always considered herself to be the more intelligent dragon , yet Goanuth was not the one who'd been locked away.
She shook her head in disgust. Here she was, possibly living out the last few hours of her life, mentally extolling the virtues of Goanuth! Had she gone mad? Perhaps the closeness of the dungeon air or the cold stone floor had addled her wits. Fannie felt a cloud of depression descend upon her like a dark shroud. She didn't fight it. She didn't see the point. Whatever was going to happen, Fannie was certain it wouldn't be pleasant. Thinking about it left a knot in her stomach and a bad taste in her mouth. If only she wasn't so powerless!
They were certainly keeping her in the dark. All inquiries about her fate had gone unanswered. The current attacks probably had something to do with that too, she admitted silently, but it didn't stop her mind from wandering nor her fears from escalating in a sea of vague, but impending , doom. Goanuth had been very accomodating in conjuring up possible scenarios for her to chew on, of course; but, it was all speculation and scare tactics. She had nothing concrete to fix her mind to. She had no way to prepare for the fate that awaited her. She had no way of knowing what to expect. Thus, her imagination flitted about upon the murky waters of uncertain disaster and mocked her with visions of eternal suffering.
Eventually, her troubled thoughts gave way to exhaustion and Fannie slipped into a dream-filled sleep. Somewhere outside, the brave warriors of Aiken'yar protected the only home she'd ever known.
******************************************************
"Right, then" said the Guardian. "Let's think about what we know of the Dai'og Thehyl."
She leaned against one of the many large boulders that served as a barricade and began to formulate a plan to rid Aiken'yar of it's unwelcome visitors. "This tribe is highly intelligent and seems to excel in the art of sabotage and treachery. They are cunning and quite adept at plotting the downfall of anything from a Naming Day celebration to an entire kingdom if given enough time and resources. Those who are not called into the service of the priesthood usually clamor for such positions as spy or assassin. Of course, some are able to handle both positions..but it is rare. The most honored within the Dai'og Thehyl are the Sorcerers or Priests of Dagoth, who are always present in battle and use their dark magick to strengthen their clan members and drive fear into the hearts of their enemies. The power they wield is generally focused through an instrument such as a staff, especially when the spell they are casting involves a great amount of concentration or must be maintained for a long period of time. This seems to be what we are dealing with here."
Tegaeya nodded. "The priest has made no effort to hide himself, to be sure. No doubt, he feels secure in his current position, and I can't say I blame him. It must take alot of ability to control a Rockbiter and keep a shield around himself at the same time."
"That is true, but you are forgetting one of the key reasons why that clan never reached its greatest potential." the Guardian reminded her. "Think, Tegaeya, how do you best a dragon of Dai'og Thehyl?"
The Captain Commander thought for a moment. " To best a dragon of Dai'og Thehyl, even a powerful sorcerer, one must cause him to lose his temper..." Her eyes widened. " Ah, I think I am beginning to understand. Once we have succeeded in distracting the priest in this manner, he will lose control of his thoughts and the spell he's cast on the Rockbiter will be broken."
"Not entirely. The spell will not be broken completely until the staff is destroyed or until a new spell is channeled through it. Since I doubt that we can a find a priest of Dai'og Theyhl to do this and I certainly know of no one within our own clan, the staff will need to be done away with. Now then, if we can manage to distract the priest, he probably won't be able to keep his shield up. Once it is down, it will be necessary to distract him further until one of the warriors can get close enough to wrest away the staff." She looked at her childhood friend. "You will need at least four Thaiyli masks."
Tegaeya nodded. Unlike clan Aiken'yar, the Dai'og Theyhl did not have the ability to breathe fire. Their particular specialty was in exhaling a toxic and malodorous gas. The effects of breathing it in differed from dragon to dragon, but the results were never pleasant. Some dragons suffocated from the noxious fumes, while others lost the use of their vision or some other vital sense. Paralysis and even death was common. It was possible to live through such an attack, but the dragons who had were usually only a half of their former self and spent the rest of their days as invalids.
The only defense against the poisonous gases that a Dai'og Theyhl emitted came from the fibres of a small and unassuming plant called Thaiyli. Thaiyli only grew during the winter months and had to be handled with great care until it went through the drying process. The plants were then meticulously woven into water-tight masks that were custom-fit to whichever dragon was wearing it. Since the gases could enter in not only by inhalation, but through the eyeducts and ear canals as well, a Thaiyli mask covered the entire head and blocked any possible entryway.
The masks were only good for one use and had to be diposed of immediately afterwards, so Tegaeya knew that they didn't have any available at present. She would have to find a weaver quickly to get the task done, and though she disliked the delays it might cause, she knew it was a necessity. Also, it would give her time to assemble some warriors who could handle fighting in a Thaiyli mask. Since wearing the mask impeded vision, sound, and also affected the intake of oxygen into one's lungs-- it took a warrior a good amount of training and experience to use one. All of her warriors knew how to use the mask, but only a few of them had mastered it.
"All right," said Tegaeya, " we know what we have to do. The question is, Mithaya, how do we do it?"
The Guardian sighed. "First, we summon a weaver and hope there is enough Thaiyli in reserve to make the masks. You need to assemble capable warriors, naturally. And then, well, then we go digging for rotted Pela roots." She smiled broadly. "Do you remember the pranks we use to play with them when we were young, Tegaeya?"
The Captain Commander laughed. " I think I know what you have in mind, Mithaya. How very mischevious! And how very splendid!" She said with great approval. "So then, let's get to it. I will have one my warriors find a weaver..and I will send a few out to begin digging for Pela now to save us time." The long-time friends continued to work out the finer details of the plan, unaware of the hooded figure that hid itself nearby.
The young acolyte of the Dagoth priesthood quietly backed away. Originally she'd been planted in Aiken'yar as a spy, but it appeared as though her purpose was being turned to a new direction now. Moving with the shadows, she made her way back into the lair. Her destination was the temple and she felt the urgency of getting there as quickly as possible. There was little time to waste. She only hoped that this would prove her worthiness to serve Dagoth as a true sorcerer. She hurried along the empty corridors and allowed herself to think of home for the first time in months.
"Why do people not notice until they lose it?
What it is that's truly important...
Although I can't afford to forgive even myself,
Because you were there,
I was able to be myself (Natural).
I want to be honest...I want to be kind...
I want to be the adult I once (in my childhood) longed to be.
I go on fighting against the heart to run away...
I go on fighting against that invisible something!"---
True Navigation: Two MIX
I feel better now. 
Sad.
I beg to differ, m'dear. And I think the answer is yes, they do. But I don't know why you don't like it; I think it's great. 
