The Sun Flight

Celean packed the scrolls carefully into the lined carrying case.

“Is the volunteer ready?” she hummed.

“Yeah. I offered him the payment and he snapped it right up. He looks like a disaster, I think he’d do it for free,” said Showtime.

After weeks of prep, they were ready to try out Celean’s modification scrolls and the cures. They just needed a dragon ready for a complete makeover.

Said dragon, Lillian, was sitting outside their lab gnawing on a wendigo haunch.  Showtime had spent ages looking for the right dragon at the auction house for this experiment, where right dragon was defined as willing. He’d talked Celean out of just grabbing a slow moving member of Sun Flight.

Celean nodded to Showtime to carry the scrolls out and approached Lillian.

“Ready?”

“Sure,” he said, tossing aside the bone. Showtime wrinkled his snout in disgust. Wildclaw eating habits were so distasteful.

Celean began assembling her work. She’d veto’d doing this in the enclosed space of the lab. For many, many reasons.

Showtime kept barking out ‘nothing to see here!’ at passing curious dragons.

“Ah! Now!” hissed Celean.

“Now? What’s no--” Lillian was cut off by a burst of light as all three scrolls lit up.

-BZAP-

“Science goes bzap?” asked Showtime.

“They work!” crowed Celean.

“Why are there...” Lily counted slowly under her breath, “a hundred hatchlings here?”

“Met ‘em at the AH. Told them about the glory of the Gladekeeper. They’ve decided to seek their fortune by her side,” said Hortense, before grabbing a rope in her mouth and pulling it tight, then tying it around a large wooden log.

“Sun is going to notice this many dragons. There Shalt Be No Other Deity Before Your Boss, he says.” Lily looked worried. Then she snapped her head to try and eat one of the pixies that flocked to her. She missed.

“That’s why I’ve got Step-dad Syl’s invention here! Since hatchlings are too small to make the journey up the Behemoth on their own without guidance, I’m going to send them to the end the fast way! Everyone, get into the big cup!”

Hortense stood back and Lily took a good long look at the device the religious Tundra had been working on.

It was huge. How Syl, a tiny fae, had possibly built it was beyond Lily. It consisted of logs, metal, and a gigantic bowl at the end. The rope Hortense had tied vibrated with intensity as it held the bowl down to the ground. There was an enormous spring ready to go.

The hatchlings all clambered inside and Hortense leaned down, revealed her giant canines, and bit the rope in half.

SPROING

The hatchlings went flying up to the top of the behemoth like tiny comets.

“REMEMBER TO FLAP!” yelled Hortense.

The lone snapper hatchling cried ‘oh nooo’, which faded into the distance with the rest of the hatchlings.

“Okay, well, that was a good use of my time. Time to get some more!” said Hortense brightly.

Been catapulting hatchlings directly at Glademama’s face all day and it’s not even making a dent in the AH listings for 5gem and under hatchies.

http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22695576

obsidian cherub/obsidian peregine/black glimmer

70 gems

http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22695577

obsidian cherub/obsidian peregine/coral glimmer

60 gems

http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22804057 http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22804058

2x white iri/white shim/white ub

15 gems

http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22804102

3x thistle, cherub/stripes/underbelly

25 gems

http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=22804103

3x thistle, cherub/stripes/spines

“Hatch, you little beasts, I want a week off,” said Brunhilda as she used a stick as a lever to turn over an earth egg. If the eggs didn’t bounce, hum, or try to tip over and crush her feet she would have given them up for lost by now. It had been months! It didn’t take the eggs in the nests of the Sun Flight that long to hatch. It was an easier job than taking care of the animals with her brother Herriot, but she was getting sick of how long she’d been at this since the gatherers had started bringing back eggs.

“Well, it’s the incubating,” Pythas had told her. Pythias and her mother Oath were working with Brunhilda to hatch the eggs. “But only the parents can incubate an egg. We’re just doing our best with these. We know it can be done, because Evie was an egg when she showed up.”

Unfortunately, Evie who was the nocturne in question couldn’t remember what she did to hatch. For some reason. And she’d had the audacity to do it while everyone’s backs were turned.

So Brunhilda continued to work with the clan healers on various plans to try and induce her giant batch of eggs to become a giant batch of little dragons.

She was extra vigilant today, even if she wanted a vacation. She’d seen Celean skulking around with Showtime and a bundle of glowing scrolls. She didn’t know what that meant but her eggs weren’t going to be experiments for a pair of mad scientists. The same reason she wouldn’t let the alchemist trio within twenty yards of her jury-rigged nests.

“If you would just hatch,” she said, giving up on the stick and grabbing the earth egg between her forepaws and forcefully turning it, “you would save me a LOT of trouble.”

Then she heard the singing. And the ground started shaking.

Coming over the top of the earthen bowl she kept the eggs in was a massive, heavy Snapper surrounded by singing pixies.

It was BLUEBELL THE WIZARD.

He rumbled on down the incline, muttering to himself in the way that snappers couldn’t seem to stop and paused to gaze at the egg on the very edge, a nature egg that she’d placed there to get the most sun.

“Can I help you?” she said tiredly. BLUEBELL THE WIZARD wasn’t the only magic user in the flight, but he was the only one who didn’t seem to... use it the same way as the others. There was nothing elemental abut his magic.

The big blue snapper turned to her, fixing her with an intense eye. Pixies flew this way and that.

“Your notes, girl! I need to see your notes!”

“Only if you don’t complain they’re not on a tablet,” she said and pulled out one of the copies she’d made. Paper had a short-lived survival rate around dragons.

The pixies held it up for BLUEBELL THE WIZARD to read.

Caretaking Methods:

Nature Eggs: Keep watered, turn towards sun.

Arcane Eggs: Keep net over top so it doesn't fly away.

Fire Eggs: Keep in stone nest away from combustibles.

Shadow Eggs: Keep in cool, dark place.

Water Eggs: Keep submerged, change water regularly.

Plague Eggs: TRY NOT TO TOUCH. (I use a stick to turn these ones. Probably not advisable.)

Lightning Eggs: Another to keep away from combustibles. Use rubber gloves when turning.

Light Eggs: Perfect eggs. Just turn regularly, keep in regular nest. Don't look too closely at.

Nocturne Eggs: Cool dark place like a shadow egg, keep an eye on them.  Daily count.

Earth Eggs: Limber up before turning, very heavy. Keep feet away in case they tip over.

Ice Eggs: KEEP IN COOL PLACE.

Wind Eggs: Place in nest with high sides. Do not place on top of a slope or flat surface. Will turn itself.

“Hrm, hrm,” said BLUEBELL THE WIZARD, nodding. “Very good. I will return to you in some months time with a solution.”

And.

He.

Walked.

Away.

“Celean! Celean, I’ve got those wildclaw scales you were asking for! Cassandra had a bunch and she says they’re mostly hers,” said Lily, nudging her way into the laboratory. But instead of Celean, there was a tundra with fur of clashing colours and a purple bandana. Like Celean always was, his eyes were covered in goggles.

“I’ll take those,” he said.

Lily pulled back, headfins up. “You’re not Celean.”

“I hope not. I’m her assistant.”

“She doesn’t have an assistant!”

“I’ve been her assistant for years!” He floofed.

“Then why have I never seen you!” demanded Lily.

“Uh,” he said.

“Because Showtime’s a lazy furball who prefers working on his crystals than doing the work he should be doing,” grumbled Celean, coming out of the back room. “I somehow got him to work today and now he’s holding up production.”

Showtime plucked at one of his purple gloves. “She wouldn’t just hand over the supplies to me.”

“I thought you were some creepy thief!” said Lily.

“Creepy!?” Showtime floofed more.

“Well, wanting to steal bits of Wildclaw isn’t exactly hatchling friendly,” said Celean as she got to work.

“Do I fetch the eggs now or...?” asked Showtime.

“Eggs? What are you two doing with eggs?”

“Our jobs!” said Celean. “And not yet, Showtime. We need to wait until it’s time.”

Lily looked back and forth at both of them.

“It’s fine,” said Showtime. “We’re not eating them.”

“Stop giving her details, the more they know the more they make me do,” snapped Celean. “Get to work mixing up that jade.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Showtime, trotting off.

The last of the stores had been eaten. Dragon were hungry, but not ‘we’ll start with the faes and move up’ hungry.

Starlight had moved a boulder over the food prep area of her cave a week ago while she worked. She’d only let it be nudged open when Zephyr started arriving with bag after bag. The poor tundra had overworked herself so much that Boreas had to take over for her eventually.

Things had gone faster then because Boreas had no issue with accepting help from the couriers.

It was early one morning when the boulder was toppled out of its place by the full bulk of a guardian. No need to be coy, the guardian was Starlight.

“Dinner,” she announced, “is served.”

---

“There sure is a lot of webwing in this,” said Honoria, eating up her share.

“It was all I could buy with the gems they gave me,” said Zephyr, eating up her rotala filled plant portion. “Not a lot of room to be economical and varied.”

“You should take me, I’m an excellent barterer,” Honoria said.

“I don’t think threatening to bite their faces is good haggling,” said Zephyr. “And this is good! This is food. And she’s started digging into the other stuff now.”

Victoria laid curled up by the clan leader table. Beside her was Syl, saying something in monotone about the amount of cicada in his food. She couldn’t tell if he was in favour or not.

“I hope you’ve hired competent, less fussy help for Starlight by now,” grumped Horace.

“Mmm. No, there were no takers to our job ad. A few potential candidates but...” she said. She took a nibble at her food.

“That’s the problem!” said Horace, his false mustache bristling. “Too much pickiness! We never would have had this happen if everyone in this damned clan wasn’t so coddled!”

“Flight. We’re a Flight,” said Victoria. She adjusted her crown which had started to slip. Again. It fit horribly.

“And you’re a queen,” said Horace in a tone that made it very clear that he’d call either her or the clan by those terms when the Wyrmwound blossomed with flowers.

“I would like to eat in peace, thank you,” she said.

Horace hmphed and turned his head down to complain to Syl. Who, since the tiny Fae was between them, was the same as talking directly at Victoria anyway.

She considered squishing them.

Sun was at the head of the table, talking excitedly about some nonsense or another. He’d lost weight - they’d run out of seafood first. But hed stayed in his strange good spirits the entire time.

“All my workers are competent!” he’d insisted when people said that Starlight had just barricaded herself to eat all the food.

Well, it seemed he’d been right.

Victoria considered biting him anyway. She’d been in charge of handling all complaints for the mean two weeks and right now the dragon who’d given her that responsibility was at the top of her hitlist.

Horace was still complaining. He’d run out of food-related complaints and had moved onto the disrespect of hatchlings these days. There were at least ten new ones, playing around in the middle of the eating area where an eye could be kept on them.

Hortense was by them and Victoria was briefly grateful that she wasn’t openly telling them about the Gladekeeper during mealtime so she didn’t have to deal with Sun’s dramatics about deity competition.

To understand the Flight’s glee, you have to understand how they feel about their morale officer.

It can be summed up in one word:

Bleh.

Cornelius came to them from Light Flight, bursting with uncomfortable truths and knowledge of his own beauty. He saw that most members of the ‘Flight’ had tasks, and demanded one for himself.

He was spectacularly terrible at everything.

Eventually Victoria assigned him ‘Morale Officer’ because he was at least pretty to look at, and how much trouble could he get into there?

Well, a lot, it turns out.

Cornelius believes in the truth. He believes in the unasked for truth.

“Cheer up! Your scale rot is hideous but that doesn’t mean you should keep others down!” led to his (temporary) squishing by Teren the Imperial.

After that, he chose to give his boosts and well wishes as rapidly as possible. Spinning and swirling like only a spiral can.

His son, Finbok, is rather well liked. The apple fell far from the tree.

Well! Onto the story.

One day, Cornelius began spinning around. He had, he told anyone who listened and those who didn’t, a girlfriend in another flight. A pretty girlfriend. And he didn’t have to stay around HERE anymore and get disrespected.

After another hour of this, California grabbed him in her powerful jaws and whipped her head to the side, sending him flying off into the canopy.

"I was helping him get on his way!” she said, and was instantly forgiven for her antisocial behaviour due to her great beauty.

A day passed.

Victoria came by doing her nightly headcount and noted that, like July, Cornelius was now missing. For some reason she didn’t find it as amusing as the others to be told that a witless spiral was out in the dark of the nature domain with no combat training or protection.

She was organizing the shamed dragons into a search party when he reappeared.

He wasn’t spinning or twisting. In fact, he was doing something they had never seen him do before: Walk.

Victoria moved to him.

“Are your wings damaged? Did someone step on you?” she asked, gently lifting up one of his feet.

Cornelius muttered something.

“They said you left for some female! What happened? Are you hurt? Speak up!”

Cornelius muttered a little louder.

“I said SPEAK UP!” roared Victoria. Terrified birds bled the canopy.

“It didn’t work out! She was my cousin!”

There was a long pause.

No dragon knew what to say.

But Victoria did.

She reached into the special pouch under her royal cape and pulled out the item designed for just this moment:

The sweater of shame.

Cornelius is still up there in those trees, waiting for something especially morale improving to say to those dragons who laughed at him.

He’ll get his. He’ll get his.

July doublechecked her bags. Enough to get there and back! Keever, her longneck companion, was going through her own preparations. They had plans to head towards the Southern Icefield this trip, to see what might be around the corner.

“You delivered our last will and testament to Victoria, right?” said July, tying a pack shut. Keever nodded. It was standard practice for the pair to make arrangements in case they never returned. They’d only been late long enough once that the will had actually taken effect.

There’d been a lot of bartering to get their stuff back.

“Right! I have a boat - well okay I have the back of a Guardian - charted to bring us to the Icefields, the narrow part, then it’s just a matter of going around to see how far we can go from there! It’s gonna be great, Keever.”

Keever hopped onto July’s back to ride as the Mirror scampered off from the lair towards the meeting point a day away.

July paused and looked back.

“I wonder why there’s so many exaltings climbing the behemoth?” she said.

Keever shrugged.

“Maybe you were a bit harsh with her,” said Thunderfoot as he dragged out some rotala to begin processing since food prep was back on.

“They hampered me! I’m not going to be treated like that. And don’t you worry, I made sure there was enough for you and none of the meat eaters are coming near you,” said Starlight, nuzzling her charge. Thunderfoot nearly toppled over from her strength.

The centaur sighed and went to get another bushel.

Meanwhile, their messenger Zephyr was winging her way to the trading post to put up a job offering for a new food processor, a new salesdragon, and to place some orders for frog legs, among other essentials.

Shortly after, Zephyr realized that while she could certainly BUY enough food to feed an enormous lair, she certainly couldn’t carry it and didn’t dare leave it abandoned at the Auction House for the next hungry clan that came by.

And like Shade was she going to get the courier dragons to bring it. Not since they rejected her.

“See how you like being told you cost the entire group a fortune. The black witches were the last straw,” grumbled Starlight. As she was a guardian, her grumble made the cave walls shake.

Starlight’s domain was a cave dug under a root of the Behemoth, the cool earth keeping the food she prepared from spoiling. From there it went into the mouths of hungry dragons.

Or it would, if there was more of it.

“Who told you that?” asked Lily, staring sadly at their pile of meat. It was the smallest group of all. And with all their new Wildclaws, that could be a disaster. She couldn’t believe Victoria had passed this duty onto her. She was Melody’s student, not the ‘queen’s’. And Victoria was the same size as Starlight. This wasn’t fair.

“Cadmus. During one of his little inspections of resources. He should stick to his coins, because dragon management? I could have squished him. Just right under my foot. Then added him to the meat pile.”

“Duly noted,” said Lily. “So this is what Melody was warning about in her last prophecy.”

Starlight picked up Lily and held the little mirror up to her face. Starlight bent over for no one. Lily was a bit big for the Guardian’s hand, but Starlight made up for it with squeezing.

“Three seers, you, her, and that little coatl and none of you saw fit to get us some extras? None of you thought, goodness, we should help Starlight who has to handle all of this on her own? None of you?” Another cave shaking grumble.

Lily pinned her ear-fins back.

Starlight continued. “Do you have any idea how much fiddly work this is? And I have no assistant! The only one who ever offers to help is Cassandra and she’s covered in so many dead things I wouldn’t let her near anyone’s food if I was being paid double!”

“Do, er, you want a raise?”

“No, I want you to get me food. Here’s a supply list of what that Skydancer won’t be able to claim I cost some great opportunity to get. And get someone else to handle trading post duties who doesn’t expect me to have some sort of future sight!” She lowered her hand, then dropped Lily just far enough that Lily knew she’d been angrily dismissed. Great. No longer her problem, she could pass it back to Victoria, whose job this was.

But that didn’t seem right.

“Get started on what we have. If anyone gives you trouble, say Victoria gave you the clearance and she’s got the authority. And we’ll see about getting you help - one way or the other,” said Lily, rubbing her feet to get the fall-ache out.

“It’ll be a while before I have any amount worth mentioning,” said Starlight.

“Then we’ll pay for our own inattention, won’t we?” said Lily. “Please, tell Victoria if you have any further concerns. She’s very interested in this case.”

“Here you go,” said Hortense, dropping the bag of treasure on Cadmus’ makeshift desk.

The large purple Skydancer leaned forward, adjusted his spectacles, and began counting the contents. His antenna waved in the air.

“Hortense,” he said, “you seem disturbed.”

“Sun caught us,” she said. She hated how sulky she sounded.

“Ah, and they happened to drop all their belongings behind them as they fled his wrath?” said Cadmus. He set aside the first pile. Fifty thousand. He began stacking the next.

“No, he uh... he asked for some fish,” muttered Hortense.

“Did you give him any?”

“We’re still on rations. I was lucky I got enough of the other types for the exalts for their trip. I didn’t even have fish!”

“And then he consumed you in his rage, blasting lightning all around?” Cadmus set aside the next fifty thousand. There was less than that left.

“No, he just wandered off.” Hortense rested her chin on the edge of Cadmus’ desk.

“Then why are you so upset, my dear?” asked Cadmus. Hortense noted he had bandages on his claws. No other member of the flight had as much bad luck as their treasure keeper Cadmus, whose duties also included opening any chests they found - which more than was healthy contained canopic jars with all the related curses.

“He’s a thief! And he’s such a space case!”

“He’s not from Arcane, dear,” said Cadmus. Forty thousand. One hundred and forty thousand. A nice collection of treasure, it would help with the upcoming wind festival. Cadmus would have to make a note of commendation.

“That’s not what space case means, Cadmus..”

“Ah, my apologies.”

“I can’t stand him. And he’s always singling me out.”

“Perhaps he seeks to convert you to his, er, religion. Of himself.”

“No, he never even brings that up! Just talks about the weather and the forest and I can’t stand him I miss when it was just my parents and the main group,” said Hortense with a grumble.

“Ah, it isn’t so bad as things are. I enjoy having joined this clan,” said Cadmus.

“You’re okay. And so are the others. Mostly. That little suck up Laura bugs me too. And now he’s got a second, a jester, can you believe that? Insufferable.”

“Not many would have given me the opportunity to work with numbers like he has,” said Cadmus in his diplomatic tone. “Not many clans work with such... efficiency.”

“If he’s so efficient, how come I can send out my exaltings right under his giant nose?”

“Well, he is distractable,” said Cadmus, “or perhaps he doesn’t care to stop you. Your beliefs are very important to you.”

Hortense groaned. Didn’t she have anyone she could vent to? Her mother just insisted that Sun smelled of ‘a friend’ like that was all you needed to be said, her father was even spacier than Sun, focused on his magic. Syl, her step-fae, might have been an ear but he didn’t like to cause waves. Arliden, her mate? He just agreed with anything she said. It wasn’t a real conversation. She had plenty of people willing to listen to her preaching, but they all left eventually for the Gladekeeper. No one stayed with her.

Cadmus’ antenna twitched and he reached out to hold her foreleg.

“You have the right to dislike him. You were born here, there’s no reason for you to be displaced,” said Cadmus. “Once I finish locking away this treasure, perhaps we can graze together? You can tell me how the exalting is going."

Hortense gave him a little smile. “Okay. And it’s going good. This is just from the first wave, we have more leaving tomorrow. It’s going to be great.”

Once upon a time there were two lovely tundras who met in the middle of an enormous forest.

The first was named Penelope.

She was alone when Sibal met her.

Oh yes, the second was named Sibal.

Sibal was learning magic and wandering through the forest in search of friends. Penelope said, “I could use a friend.”

“Should we become a clan?” asked Sibal.

“Yes. Sun Flight,” she answered.

“Sun Flight?” he asked again.

“It just seems like our name,” she said.

While they were setting up a small home for themselves, they had a nest, from which a little dragon named Hortense was born:

She loved the forest very much.

They met other dragons.

Such as:

Jasper, who was a little unusual.

Hero, who no one could understand and appeared one night.

Delores, who was very fierce.

Horace, who was very grumpy but also practical. He taught them how to get into bigger, better parts of the forest. Nothing could stop him once he began to organize Jasper and Delores to clear their way.

Melody, who came and showed them how things could be, seeing the future in pools of water.

And

Syl, who Penelope fell in love with.

They were a very happy clan. Other dragons were starting to join them, small faes, giant imperials, and twisty spirals.

Then one day a very large dragon appeared.

“Hello, Penelope,” he said. “You’ve been taking good care of my clan!”

By this time Penelope had become settled in her new life and Sibal had become a powerful wizard.

Neither of them remembered him.

But Penelope sniffed him and said: “You smell like a friend.”

Hortense, who was now grown, muttered: “He smells like a thief.”

And the giant dragon, named Sun, explained that he and Penelope had formed an amazing clan, just the two of them. And Sun had needed to go out to gain funds for them, so he’d left Penelope in charge of their little patch of land.

“Also,” he added, “I am a Deity. We are the mighty Sun Flight.”

The other dragons stared at him.

Penelope beamed. “I think that’s right!” she said.

And that’s how a group of innocent bystanders got engulfed in one ridgeback’s dreams of running his own cult.

Under Sun’s leadership and grasp of delegation, the flight has now blossomed to take up the size of a town. Fortunately, the Behemoth is so large it would take you quite a while to find them nestled in its roots.

Hortense finished putting out the last of the packed lunches for the group. They weren’t all her hatchlings, but she’d influenced each and every one about the glory of the Gladekeeper and the honour of serving her. Most of them were prepared to go onto protecting the labyrinth and tending to the gardens. She’d seen previous members of the clans in her travels, and while there was never time to sit and talk about their new lives, it was good for her to know that each one she’d seen seemed happy and satisfied.

“Hrm, what’s all this then?”

A huge shadow fell over her. She looked up. It was the bane of her existence, the thieving ridgeback who’d taken her parents clan from them. Sun.

“Just helping our fellow clan members prepare for a journey, sir,” she said. She wasn’t going to say your highness no matter how many times he hinted.

“Quite a lot of them, isn’t there,” he said. Behind his foot, his tiny snapper minion, Laura, squeaked and covered her face with her rocky forefeet.

“It’s going to be a big journey,” said Hortense. None of the exaltings said anything. It wasn’t considered wise to tell a self-proclaimed god how many of his subjects went to serve the real deities and treated him as a mere irritation. From tiny faes to enormous guardians, each generation had decided it just wasn’t worth the drama.

“Ah, well. Weather’s warming up, isn’t it, little violet,” Sun said to her.

“Yes,” said Hortense. “Spring is starting.”

That was what they’d all been waiting for, this latest group. Nature was going to fight off Ice and fight off the last vestiges of winter. The Icewarden wasn’t going to know what hit him.

“Oh! Oh yes, I suppose it is. It’s been a long time,” said Sun.

Hortense looked up at him calmly. She didn’t know why Sun insisted on talking to her regularly when he was content to ignore the other members of the Fligh--CLAN until they called for his attention.

She didn’t like it.

Little Laura could clearly tell that this was an exalting party on its way to the Gladekeeper and she was making little ‘move on’ noises to Sun about some task or another they had to get to. One day Sun was going to realize, Hortense knew. He couldn’t be that stupid.

“Nice little lunches,” said Sun, lowering his head so he and Hortense were eyelevel. “Any fish?”

“We can’t afford to spare our seafood supply and there’s no ridgebacks in the group, sir,” said Hortense. This should be a proper, Gladekeeper worshiping, clan. She wanted to bite the tip of Sun’s ridiculous nose.

“Hm, maybe that will change. I could use a friendly nose around here,” he said. “Do we have room to recruit any, little boulder?”

Laura sighed. “Sir, there are two other ridgebacks. Delores and Verity. Verity does our personal relations and Delores has always been here.”

“Oh. Oh yes, now I remember. Well, carry on with your little trip,” said Sun, straightening back up and spreading his (in Hortense’s opinion, stubby) wings and taking off suddenly into an enormous gust of wind that flattened the smaller dragons to the ground.

“Sir, you forgot meeee!” yelled Laura, chasing after his shadow.

Hortense turned around to look at her disciples. “Time is money, dragons! We’re moving out! It’s been an honour teaching you.”

She raised her foreleg, claws clenched into a fist.

I’ve been buying up stacks of food from the AH, stuff I’m sure isn’t going to become the new swipp swap which has made me super paranoid about processing anything I pick up during my gather turns, thanks, game.