‹ Twin axes, pulsing with power and clutched within strong draconic hands, drenched in foul-smelling blood, lowered when a strong boot pressed upon the fallen felguard's skull. Up tilted the Dracthyr's head, eyes fixed upon the elven-guised lord that had made himself present; the warrior, though fresh from combat, had quite a relaxed posture as the corners of his own lips perked up a bit. ›
❝ Honestly? I'm having quite a bit of fun, ❞ ‹ he replied as he shook the axes slightly — angled away from the Infinite to avoid any splatter his way — to free them of excess blood. › ❝ I know that probably sounds absolutely mental to someone native to this world, but where I'm from, the most exciting magic we had was talking to dead people. Everything else was just clever sleight of hand. So for me, as crazy as all of this is, it's exciting and new! Plus, I got turned into a sick dragon-type creature, how could I complain? ❞
‹ As those axes were put away, the Dracthyr's long tail swished and swiped back and forth with sheer delight, wings outstretched for a moment to let them breathe after the encounter he just had. ›
❝ I have been getting a lot of funny looks, though, especially from the blue-scaled dragons. Anything I should know about that? They don't seem keen to tell me what's got them bothered, it seems. ❞