Seat of Our Noble Line (Part 3)

Blue sky overhead, sprawling canyon below, and the group's standing in the middle of it, beholding something that inspires awe and fear in equal measures. Something that is spoken of in legend but rarely sighted:

A dragon.

It's a massive one. And it seems none too-pleased that you are here. Except...

"RETURN WHAT YOU HAVE STOLEN!"

The bellowed voice comes from the dragon. Quite some distance from behind the group, however, comes an almost nervous sort of laughter.

Turning around reveals a man with dark hair and bright blue eyes, sporting some slight facial hair like he hasn't shaved in a few days. He's dressed in blue robes that practically scream his status as a wizard. He laughs a little. "I suppose we can't we talk this out?"

"Papa!" Mariana in Seldan's arms cries out, already wiggling to get out of his arms in the usual style of toddler escape schemes.

Well. This escalated quickly. Telamon's eyes are saucer-huge, and it's only because of long association with a couple other, more reasonably sized dragons that he's not completely overawed. Still... this is not a good situation. "Sir Seldan," he says cautiously, starting to edge backwards. "I don't suppose you know if your esteemed ancestor ever tangled with a dragon?" The nervous laughter and the voice behind him cause him to do a double take, and the sorcerer blinks. "What the...? Who-- wait, isn't that -- is this real, or a memory?"

No sooner had Seldan settled to the ground, the mighty angel wings dissipating, than the dragon's roar of anger shakes the very rocks around them. His eyes, too, at the sight of the mighty creature are saucer-huge, but true to his nature, he is steady and solid as always, holding the toddler firmly. "Do not move, little one," he tells her firmly. "He cannot hold you, right now."

"Just watch, Mari," adds the voice of Zee at Seldan's hip. "I don't like the look of that-"

To Telamon, Seldan shakes his head, murmuring quietly. "I know not. Little is known to me of this ancestor. We shall swiftly learn if this is real or but memory, for I doubt not that that dragon knows we are here, and will make its presence felt, if this be real."

Zeke lands on the ground a bit firmly, stumbling to keep his balance. He's not the most well-balanced of people on the best of days really, though he's pleased to note that he'd been correct about not needing the flight...

He watches the dragon land and feels his stomach plummet to the ground. Every instinct he has says that one does _not_ argue with a dragon. Yet... His eyes dart to Seldan and Telamon. Seldan seems uncertain if the dragon is real to them. Best to error on the side of politeness. Gingerly he moves toward the dragon. Just enough that he's sort of in front of the group. He bows low to the creature. Even if it's evil it deserves respect. Though that will make it more difficult to talk to.

Then he switches to his native tongue and speaks up to the dragon. Drawing attention to himself as he _never_ does. "Ssssa. Peace on your nest Honored One. This one has no wish to be rude. This one is known as Zeke. This one is hoping you will tell this one what was stolen from the Honored One?" <Draconic>

GAME: Zeke rolls Diplomacy: (13)+11: 24

The black dragon--for its scales are obvious in this regard--looks down at Zeke, powerful wings keeping it aloft in the air. A huff leaves the dragon, a thing that could very well be the prelude to something far, far worse.

"SCALED MORTAL. THE SOFTSKIN HAS STOLEN FROM MY HORDE." It gives a little gesture with its head and neck in the direction of the structure that Rhain Padaryn is standing in front of.

"Papa in twouble?" Mariana asks, her little eyebrows furrowing as she pouts.

It's only now that the blue-eyed wizard locks eyes onto Seldan, and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Help me out!" he cries out. "All I wish is to go home to my wife and my daughter."

GAME: Zeke rolls Perception: (6)+8: 14
GAME: Telamon rolls perception: (8)+25: 33
GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (20)+25: 45
GAME: Zeke rolls Sense Motive: (2)+8: 10
GAME: Telamon rolls detectbs: aliased to sense motive: (5)+25: 30
GAME: Seldan rolls sense motive: (14)+24: 38

"Oh gods-dammit," Telamon mumbles under his breath. Whether this is real or not, they have to deal with it, and so the half-elf begins to move a bit... gliding up into the air on the wings of sorcery. He clears his throat, and gives Rhain a stern look, before turning to the dragon. Switching to Draconic, he growls, "Hail, Honored One. I come to thee as a supplicant, seeking to resolve this without bloodshed. Among mortals, I am called Telamon Lupecyll-Atlon, and I am a mediator and diplomat. May I know the name of your choosing?"

Tel shoots a flinty, irritated look at Rhain, and says dryly, "He seems quite convinced you've got something of his, friend. Any truth to that?"

Seldan holds the gaze of the wizard for a long, long moment, then turns to the toddler in his arms. "Mariana," he says seriously. "I shall attempt to aid your father, but you must promise me that when I put you down, you will stay right where you are, no matter what. Do you promise? If you can promise me that, I can help your papa."

Zeke watches Telamon fly up and he feels that feeling of unease again. Dragons are not known for being especially fond of things in _their_ airspace, but Telamon is a talented Speaker and Shaman, a far more skilled one than Zeke himself will ever be. Still he hisses at the other's rise, particularly when he feels something familiar on the winds; smells something; senses it in his bones. "Telamon!"

He glances hurriedly to his kin. "Sseldan. Another is on its way!" This is a mere whisper before he humbly switches back to Draconic and speaks up to the dragon. "This one will gladly speak to the soft-skin. Tell this one what he took, and this one will search him for it. This one would be honored to be of assistance." <Draconic>

"MY NAME IS _____." It comes out as something like a hiss, something that fails to register on ears of any sort. "DELIVER THE SOFTSKIN TO ME. I WISH TO FEAST ON ITS BONES AND FLESH AS RECOMPENSE FOR THE FACT HE HAS TOUCHED OUR HOARD."

Zeke's declaration of another dragon approaching is proven true. Another black-winged dot appearing on the horizon and approaching steadily, swiftly, on two wings.

Mariana's blue eyes are full of tears again, but she nods at Seldan. "P-pwomise," she says. "Pwease help papa."

Rhain Padaryn, in the meantime, looks positively thrilled. "It doesn't belong to the dragon! It belongs to my family line!" he declares. "The Padaryn signet ring is a holy treasure! Stolen from us and spirited away, but it is now with its rightful owner!"

GAME: Telamon rolls detectbs: aliased to sense motive: (15)+25: 40

Telamon stares at Rhain, his glinting eyes measuring the man. The gaze of stars, cool and impersonal. Then he turns to look at the dragon, sternly. "A bauble stolen from another's hoard does not make it yours, Honored One. Perhaps we can negotiate compensation."

His expression grows icy cold, and he switches to Tradespeak. "But by holy Ni'essa, I am not going to simply feed the man to you because he hurt your feelings. Especially not in front of his daughter."

Gently, Seldan sets Mariana down, in the entranceway where the dragon's position does not permit him to see the child, or where she was placed. "Very well. I shall do what I may." These words are quiet, but from his hip, the nasally grandmother speaks up. "A signet ring? You mean that old legend about a ring touched by the gods, that fell out of the family's hands and nobody ever knew what happened to it?"

"I was thinking the same, Fallia." The deep, refined, cultured, older man's voice agrees. "A curious coincidence. I am most curious to see what this might be."

"Is that so?" the querulous old man's voice pipes up. "If that's true, I say the dragon stole it and the wizard stole it back, and they're both telling the truth."

"Are you going to do something about this, Seldan?" Fallia turns her chiding tone on Seldan.

"Indeed, Fallia. Did I not give my word?" The paladin's voice is even, steady, and untroubled. He then raises his voice, and strides out in Rhain's direction, breaking into a run towards the man. "It is not in my mind that this one is interested in negotiation, Lord Lupecyll-Atlon, nor are we likely to evade bloodshed, not in the face of evil dragons. Prepare yourselves, for I shall not see any fed to the likes of that."

Zeke feels his heart racing in his chest. The dragon is about to be joined by what looks to be its mate, and if there is one thing worse than one dragon... it's two. He swallows the tingle of unease that is built up in his body, and continues to speak in Draconic even after Telamon abandons the language. "Honored One, if it is a life you require, might this one offer you some thing more tasty than a small soft-skin? A deer? A sheep? Or even a cow?" He shifts his tail back and forth in a show of a desire to be appeasing. "This one is willing to bring you and your companion great deal of meat!" <Draconic>

As Seldan goes running he lashes his tail once in concern; hoping he can at least be a distraction.

-TBC