I Hate Dragons There was always some degree of difficulty involved in tracking down a flying creature - even something as massive as a dragon - when you didn't have the ability to fly yourself. By the time I realized I'd lost the ice dragon's trail, I had no idea where I was.
It was a little surprising. I've been a Dragonbuster for many years, so I've seen a pretty sizable portion of the world during my travels and hunts. At this point in my life, for me to look around and not recognize any of the landmarks was unusual. It was frustrating enough that I had nothing to guide me back to a familiar place, but the worst part was that the dragon had gotten away. It's been a long time since I last saw an ice dragon, a long time since I last had the opportunity to use one of them to replenish my magic. Not that I haven't killed my share of dragons over the past few days - just that with the way things are for Dragonbusters, I'm limited to only stealing the powe
Unusual People Taphram's hands were clenched tight under Keizen's chin. It was almost to the point where it was choking him - but Keizen couldn't get too upset at the boy. If his grip was any looser, he might very well fall onto the ground. Keizen didn't have a lot of physical strength, and it was hard to support all of Taphram's weight.
He heard Taphram inhale sharply behind him, and felt warmth spreading on his leg. Blood was starting to seep through the bandages on Taphram's leg again. Keizen hated the fact that the blood would likely stain his cloak permanantly... but all things considered, it was better that than leaving Taphram to bleed to death in the forest.
"So," Keizen said. He was trying to keep up conversation to keep Taphram awake. "If nothing triggers your 'dark side', as you call it... you can't fight very well, can you?"
"I guess," Taphram replied weakly.
"Can you no
The Price of Fame Cup in hand, Robbie stepped out of the coffee shop. He glanced around apprehensively... and sure enough, that man was still there. He didn't look directly in the man's direction - he didn't want to make eye contact, after all - but that guy stuck out even in his peripheral vision. Those worn-out and torn clothes made him look like a homeless man, even if he was a lot more fit and athletic-looking than any bum Robbie had ever seen. Not to mention the fact that he was sporting long, silver hair. As far as Robbie could tell, the man seemed to be around the same age as him, so it was probably a dye-job rather than naturally graying hair.
The whole time Robbie had been inside ordering his drink, that man had been outside... just standing there. Staring at him. It was a little creepy. He'd had homeless people approach him and ask for change before, but never had they watched him like this. He had hoped that if he loitered in the coffee shop for