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what cannot be seen nor held
Thorn in Golden Treasure
Permalink Mark Unread

Today is another questionable world. Medium habitability, medium tech, trace amount of magic. 

This Thorn is fresh from her first scouting mission, a new name still hanging on her lips. "Felicity." Hopefully it will bring her luck. 

She brings her trusty pack, newly stocked and refurbished, her athame and her enchanted pistol. The runic tattoos on her arms sit snugly below her tunic; she wears simple blue jeans and a leather belt with her weapon-holsters on it.

"So," she says to her handler. "Give me a door."

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Eva smiles, and gives her a door.

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Felicity takes a chron from her pack, snaps it between her fingers, and steps through the door.

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She steps out onto a streaked brown rocky surface. The heat is already oppressive. The windblown sand stings her eyes. The landscape is full of banded sandstone, worn smooth by wind and dust. A few scraggly shrubs cling to crevices in the rocks.

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She steps through, closes the door behind her. No immediate signs of civilization, but so long as she has her beacon she's self-sufficient. And even without it she'll last a good while with her pack. 

Overland Flight will let her see the shape of things more easily. She goes up a few thousand feet to get a better view.

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She is in a desert. Over there is more desert. Over there is an oasis. Over there is a mountain range. Over there is a more sandy, less rocky bit of desert.

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Water is essential to life in most worlds. She'll head towards the oasis, flying most of the way and then landing to continue her line on foot for the last portion.

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The oasis contains plants and animals that seem pretty Earthlike! And also a rock crudely carved into an elephant's head, positioned to have an overlook of the oasis.

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That's promising! She'll camp here for tonight and see if anyone should happen along conveniently.

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The desert is noisier at night. But the predators don't bother her if she doesn't bother them.

An observant zoologist might detect something strange about what species, exactly, live side-by-side here, but Felicity probably doesn't have the relevant expertise to notice that.

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She is observant, but definitely not a zoologist.

She goes and inspects the elephant head.

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It's more human than someone going for a faithful representation of elephants would produce. It's about two feet wide, and seems to have been done in place.

There's an inscription in pictographs.

Let Malku Who Drinks Deeply watch over this place, the meeting-point and haven of the Dry Lands.

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Well, that suggests she'll meet someone if she just waits long enough. 

She settles in to do just that.

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Two days later a party of a dozen people on camels approaches; Dark skinned, garbed in rough light-colored desert clothing. Six men, two women, four children. Fifteen animals, each laden down with packs and/or a rider. The leader carries a beat-up looking bronze sword and has his beard in a braid.

They stop a ways away from the oasis and mutter to each other when they spot her campsite, much to the loud objections of their thirsty camels.

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Anthropologist's first rule: let the locals come to you when they're ready to, do not approach them on your own. She stays put.

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It takes a few minutes but the sword-carrying one approaches alone, anxious but not hostile.

"What are you doing here, pale one? I have never seen your like and thus hold little hope we understand each other, but I am moral and a priest of the orderly way."

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She smiles, half bows. "I can understand and be understood. I am very lost, I fear. I was abandoned in this desert but found my way here by good chance. I have waited here some time in hope of a passing caravan to take me out of this place."

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"It is my duty to help those in need. We are not a proper caravan but we can see you to Salmut, at least. It is on a river and away from chaos's domain, and less perilous for it. Your supplies are strange to us, perhaps they have something of use?"

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"If gold still has value in this dry land, then I can give you gold to pay my passage." 

She digs into her pack, keeping the roll of golden OTC coins hidden, and offers the priest a single gleaming gold coin.

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"Gold has value if you don't wish to part with anything else. What a fine and regular coin! That's more than enough payment. Is it of Delver make?"

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"It's the style made in my home, which is very far away indeed. Do you mind if I pack my things and make ready to follow you? Or were you intending to stay here for some time?"

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"We will let the camels drink and refill all our waterskins, then continue. Sleeping near oases is unwise. As the only source of water, the hunters of this land know well that prey is rich here."

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She nods. "I can defend myself, but I'd rather not have to. I will wait for you to be ready."

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He shouts for his family, apparently, to start camel-watering. He carefully pockets the gold coin.

"I find myself curious what the distant land you hail from is like, stranger. I have traveled the coast of Araby and the mountains of Getik and seen many tribes, but it seems there is always a more distant land."

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"I doubt you would believe me if I told you. It is a land of many wonders, as you can tell from the strange construction of my tent. Things are built of materials you might not know, such as 'plastic' and 'aluminum'. And there is much more besides. I have been sent to establish trade, but..." She shrugs. "The desert is rather an inconvenience."

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"I have heard of this 'aluminum', I think. But not plastic. Well, the deep desert is largely something to be passed through. Still, a woman sent so far alone? It is not something my people would do."

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She smiles. "Another difference between us. Still, I am willing to rely on your good word and your camels to reach where I must go."

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"We will see you safely to Salmut. What can you tell me of your home? Do chaos's beasts threaten there, too?"

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"No, it is a safe place. We have had wars in the past, but for now we are at peace. It is varied and cosmopolitan: at times there are hunts for outlaws or beasts, but more rarely now."

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"Ahh, I'm jealous of peace. One of my cousins and one of my brothers was slain in a war with strange men from the east some six years ago. But we live with what we are given and try to improve it."

He seems to consider that the end of the conversation unless Thorn asks more questions. They water their camels. He goes and prays silently to the elephant-carving.

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She packs up her remaining gear, and clasps her quartz crystal close for a moment, hoping for good luck and a safe journey.

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The little caravan is moving again soon enough. They put her on a camel, which tolerates this treatment without complaint.

There's a little chatting, even if staying on track in the desert takes much of the locals' energy. After a while two of the younger men start joking and discussing how they might drive off a dragon if one attacks - distressing one of the children, who they tease.

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She's interested to hear more about dragons! How big are they? How smart are they? Do they breathe fire? They have a few varieties where she's from, what's local?

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They're HUGE! Bigger than a house!

(No they're not, this other guy heard a story about one not much bigger than a cow.) (Maybe it was a baby?)

They breathe fire! They have wicked, chaotic animal cunning which they use to eat people and livestock, and to steal and hoard gold and other treasure. There's green ones, red ones, and blue ones. There might be black and white ones but maybe not?

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This world is sounding more and more like a Prime, but she'll reserve judgment for now. 

She says she's heard of black and white dragons and even fought a black dragon. She elides the details but talks about a warrior party that gathered together to hunt the beast and how it killed three of those sent to fight it. But they killed it. Drove a sword through its heart! Not her, she was mostly a planner, but one of her companions. What was his name again? She can't remember; all of this was long ago in any case. 

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He must have been a great warrior. Half-remembered tales of valor can be shared around. Very few of them mention magic, except what old wise men or the foul dragons themselves can do, and that sounds more like superstition than real magic.

They make camp. The women in the group seem to consider asking her something and decide against it.

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She camps in her own tent. If the others want to know more, they can ask.

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One of them brings her dinner- Dry bread with roasted carrots and celery, and some kind of gravy sauce. She sets it down by the tent flap and hesitates again, but-

"Pardon my ignorance, please, but, ah... Raisah does not want another child, and I have heard that traders from distant lands have an herb which can help with this, without separating her from her husband. Would you happen to have some of it, or know where to seek it?"

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She smiles slightly. "Ah. I know of such a herb, though it is likely different from the one you have heard of. It is... how to put this delicately... good for the act itself as well as for its consequences. I should have some in my packs but I suspect it is buried under all my other equipment; may I get it to Raisah in the morning? No charge - you are already helping me, and the herb is not expensive where I come from."

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"Of course. Thank you very much. If you have much of it, you could make plenty of coin to support yourself a while with it, I think. I'm sure many feel the same way."

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"I doubt I'll have much trouble making coin," Felicity says. "Between the Sinflower and the other goods I bear. But thank you for the advice, in any case."

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"If you would listen to a bit more advice... If you're going to go alone, especially in Salmut and beyond, you should be visibly armed. A bronze or iron blade carried by the side is more intimidating than... A mystery. Even though the hidden snake's bite carries poison." Then she bows. "Enjoy your meal. You need not help with the cooking or chores." And leaves.

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She nods. (So guns are completely unheard-of. Not surprising.)

She eats, then she digs her beacon out from her pack and punches in the codes for a supply drop. Sinflower ten vials fifty doses each leather holster. 

A leather holster holding ten glass vials of cyan Sinflower blossoms appears. She tucks her beacon away and puts the sinflower on top of her pack where she can find it the next morning. 

She sleeps.

 

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Nothing disturbs the camp at night.

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In the morning she gets out her vials of sinflower and discreetly goes looking for Raisah.

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The one who asked last night, Larin, comes and collects the plate she ate on and subtly indicates which of the remaining two is Raisah.

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She carefully approaches Raisah with her bundle of Sinflower. 

"Excuse me, Raisah. I heard you had an issue you wished to speak with me about. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

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"-Oh, it's not a secret between us women, and the men are all over there. Larin says you do indeed have an herb to prevent pregnancy?"

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"Yes." She unfolds the leather holder and shows Raisah the vials. "Sinflower. Each flower is one dose, good for three hours. Take it immediately before the act. It will make you more receptive but also barren. I will give you one of my vials and that will be fifty doses, which should keep you some time."

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"Yes, it will do for a while. Thank you. You're sure you don't want anything in return? Why that name? Love is not a sin."

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"I'm sure. As for the name... an opinion not shared by all, I'm afraid. Those who discovered the herb were afraid of it. Said it would make women unfaithful to their husbands. The name stuck, unfortunately."

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"Oh. I can see that fear. Though I think it'll be more popular with unmarried women. If it really does make you eager, with men too. I'm surprised it hasn't been harvested into nothingness really!"

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"We grow it in gardens where I'm from. It's quite cheap and affordable now. The problem you've been having is simply solved."

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She nods and smiles. "Yes. I hope your caravans can reach my home, then, so I can have more later."

Back on the trail they go.

In the early afternoon one of the men spots a flying figure in the distance and there is a brief panic and everyone is sent down the side of the dune, where they'll be hidden from the dragon's gaze. It's - Almost a speck, really, and it's hard to tell much detail at that distance, but it does look like a dragon. A long sinuous neck with what might be horns on the head, a vast pair of wide wings that beat up and down almost ponderously, back legs and a tail. It looks to have four limbs.

The green dragon isn't looking or flying in their direction. After about half an hour it vanishes towards the mountain range in the distance, off to the south-east (they're going north). The priest says he hasn't heard of a green dragon in these parts. It might be moving in, which is bad news. Everyone relaxes and the group continues, at a quicker pace.

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"I hope so too."

Felicity notes the direction she saw the dragon going for later. She has to check if they're intelligent or not. But later. First she has the rest of this caravan to go through.

 

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It's another two days. They're almost out of water by the time they get to a destination. Nothing particularly interesting happens aside from one of the men halfheartedly hitting on her in a weird foreign way and being told to cut that out by the priest guy. He probes Felicity with questions about distant lands a few more times, though.

Salmut is a mud-brick town of a few thousand alongside a river, surrounded by extensive irrigation systems and lush farmland and mud-brick walls a ways out. Guards in leather armor with bronze spears read off a long-winded statement about the Watchful Gods and their Laws, and charge a small tax per head entering - the priest pays hers.

He takes the group to a caravansary and bids Felicity good fortune, handing her four small silver coins and insisting a large gold piece is too much for simple travel on. Raisah thanks her again for the sinflower.

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She ducks the priest's questions; then she goes and finds an inn and sees how far one of her gold coins will go.

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The gold coin is attention-getting and a bigger denomination than people are used to using outside of the noble district, with stone-walled houses and nice gardens. As soon as people see it, the price doubles or triples or more. Showing the silver coins given out by the priest goes better. One silver coin is good for two weeks at a place on the edge of the city that's little more than a straw bed in an enclosed room, or one week at a place closer in with actual furniture.

(A streetside hawker offers to change the gold coin into silver and copper, for her convenience. Another passer-by tells her to go to the temple district by the river for fair moneychanging; The hawker starts a shouting match about it.)

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She buys a nice room with furniture with one of her silver coins, then goes to the temple district and sees about getting one of her golds changed to silver. After that she'll go looking for maps and news of other towns and cities. Is this the biggest things get on this world? Aluminum isn't something these bronze-age people should be able to process, something isn't right here. 

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Moneychanging at the temple district involves a fairly elaborate ritual under open sky, asking the gods above to strike from the sky, if anyone here is making unfair exchanges. She gets six silver coins and seven bronze ones after they carefully weigh the gold.

They have sketchy maps of the local region that put lots of emphasis on the river systems, and vague rumors about places further than that, including the coast of another continent. This is not the largest place in the world; The capital by the coast has proper aqueducts and irrigation as far as the eye can see and huge herds. A few places are marked out as risking the attention of dragons, or as belonging to delvers.

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She'll ask around discreetly about these Delvers. What are they delving for?

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Rocks? Metal? Gemstones? Delvers are always a good source of gold and the like, which is why caravans to them with food and craft goods are attempted even if they pass through dangerous territory.

The religious version is: They are almost human, and are part of the gods' plan for the world, which was disrupted by the coming of chaos. The Delvers' natural domain is caves and caverns and mine-shafts.

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Dwarves? Potentially dwarves. Alright. None of this adds up to a "Medium" on technology, though. 

She begins to sketch out a picture of a journey to the capital on the coast. Assuming she travels like a local for immersion, what does that journey look like?

After that she'll go and see about a sword. She's better with a knife but not incompetent with something longer. And more importantly, it's legible in a way the gun at her hip isn't. 

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Her journey looks like three weeks of walking or riding an animal by dirt road, or two weeks by more expensive river raft.

There are many and varied swords for sale! Everyone is haggling hard. Bronze ones are two or three times as expensive, but better quality than the iron blades and fairly prestigious.

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She'll settle for an iron one, she needs to save for river raft and she doesn't need it to be good for defense. How much does it cost her, assuming she haggles competently?

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Ten silver will do nicely for a good but not outstanding iron blade. The smith throws in a holster at that price.

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She smiles at the smith and belts on her new sword in the place where her athame would go. The athame she stuffs in her pack for now. 

How much for river-rafting down to the capital?

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Six silver, or free if she works the whole way down.

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She'll exchange another of her golds at the temple and be well-prepared, then. 

What is there to eat around here?

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Wheat and rye and millet and oat bread, quinoa or rice or amaranth grains at a higher price. A surprising variety of fruits and vegetables for a bronze-age society, including ones that would be both old world and new on an Earth. A surprising variety of animal products too, they have chickens, goats, pigs, cows, sheep, horses, camels, donkeys and mules, fish, and other birds like pheasant. The cooking is somewhat uncreative but not for lack of ingredients at all. (For a bronze-age society.)

Someone displays a dragon feather(?) in their restaurant, fluffy, brilliant green and almost three feet long.

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She'll assemble a ploughman's lunch with grapes and crackers and cheese, that seems reasonable. Can she cover that with her copper or will she have to trade another gold coin? 

The dragon feather gets an appreciative look. That tells her something about the size of the beasts, as well as their variety. She really is going to go have to ask one if it's smart. 

In the meantime, she'll go mingle at the caravansary and gather stories of farther places. Maybe sell off some of her Sinflower, since she has an excess.

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Two copper will get her grapes and crackers and cheese. The north has pale-faced people who are good at boats and will totally steal from you if you're vulnerable but are happy to trade instead if you look tough. The east has pale-faced people who are good at riding and like raiding, stealing things, kidnapping women. The south has too many dragons to be really safe. Far off to the west there is another continent but rumors disagree on climate, culture, and geography.

Rumors say: Delvers can't stand the sunlight. The Delver kingdom in the Stormguard Mountains seems to have vanished, maybe they were hunted by a red dragon or dug into a volcano or just ran out of things to mine and left. An entire war-fleet was sent to the Island of Doom forty years ago, seeking the immense treasure that the ancient dragon there surely hoards. They were all set on fire a hundred miles out to sea and there were no survivors. The King's two sons are going to have a public duel to resolve the succession. A great philosopher and artist in the north suddenly left their nice house in the city and walked to a swamp known to be the territory of a dragon with her pet leopard. There is some weird idea called 'insurance' that seems to be gaining popularity with merchants in the capital city. The growing city of Carlax, again in the north, finally trapped and slaughtered a dragon that has been plaguing them and picking off hunters and women and children and livestock for decades with a complicated rope trap that took months to build. The story is told very dramatically - logs straining and cracking under the foe's immense strength and so on. Apparently dragons have some sort of projective empathy, it tried to scare off the hunters with an aura of terror and pain. The King uses an artifact of the gods that grants him great wisdom.

People are kind of skeptical sinflower works as advertised! But some will buy it on the chance that it actually works.

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- tried to scare off the hunters with an aura lf terror and pain -

It might just have been radiating its own terror and pain. Trying to communicate, before it was killed? What a senseless waste. Sure, it ate people, she's sorry for them too. Could it be that neither side realizes the other is smart? She's heard of that happening before. 

She requests a wand of Shapechange from her beacon, waits, watches it appear on the floor. She stashes it in her pack for now. 

She's decided. She's not going to the capital just yet. She's going south. Maybe the dragons have the technology she can't find.

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Nobody's stopping her. She doesn't get a refund on her inn room though.

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Alas. 

South, far enough to not be seen from the city on foot, then skimming the terrain with Levitate at faster than running speed, then once she figures she's well away she'll pull her wand of Shapechange and transform into her kind of green dragon. And then fly south, Levitate helping her speed, keeping an eye out for fellow dragons.

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The desert turns to savannah turns to a reasonably lush area. It takes a while, but eventually another dragon (blue, four limbs rather than six) is flying along and spots her, veers towards her and roarssomehow carrying with it the message of 'my territory'.

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She roars back. I just want to talk.

She spirals down and lands on the ground.

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When the other dragon lands, they do so at a good distance - a few hundred feet, on top of a small hilltop.

When they 'talk' there's a verbal component involved, but it's entirely secondary to the magical sending in - it must be a new sense, because it has colors and volume but it's not sight exactly, and it has timbre and pitch but it's not quite sound either-

It's somewhat hard to interpret, but OTC's translation magic helps there. 

You have too many limbs... You want to talk? Talk.

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How to be comprehensible in a communication medium she's never experienced before. Keep it simple and to the point.

I'm from far away. I want to trade.

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The other dragon hisses and flaps its wings agitatedly. The sending continues to be - strange shapes within that new sense, resembling telepathy a little bit but only a bit, almost more concepts than words.

Trade! You wish to trade? You are no kin, yet you resemble us. Confusion is a warning. Confusion is dangerous! How can I trust your song when you are no true kin?

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You need not. If you wish me to leave in peace I will. But I seek to trade with your people, as a stranger, in the hope that we may both be richer from it.

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Hesitation.

I do not trust you. You are weird and unsettling; Like a Kin, yet not. Such a thing has never occurred before. It seems blasphemous. And yet... What Treasure can you offer me in trade, for what costs?

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I can offer gold and silver, strange magics, memories of other worlds.

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Gold and silver are always pleasing, of course. And I do enjoy strange musics. ...You do not merely mean other spheres nestled in the black sea, but places further beyond? I am not sure such knowledge would be useful but it would certainly be diverting. You have not sung of your own desires, however.

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I mean places further beyond. I sing foremost the desire for knowledge about this world, in which I am a stranger. About your kin and your ways from your own song.

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I am Savannah-Lord Elephant-Eater, Whose Might Is Only Amplified By Cunning. I may sing of many things in exchange for payment; Trade for information is familiar practice. I may sing of the ways of the Kin, in greater detail the more is offered. There is very much I might show you. I may sing of other Kin, of the Goodbeasts I hunt, of the Humans and Delvers and their extinct kin. I may sing of the ways of climate and land and the Treasures that may be found here. I may sing of the Music of the Kin, that which sets us apart from lesser beings and allows wondrous feats. I may sing of other strange beings who call this world home or have visited it in the past. I may sing of the deep history of the world, a story currently known, so far as I can tell, only to Draak-Kin. Humanity has forgotten it.

I should like to inspect what you offer before making such a deal; I swear by Sun and Earth and the binding of Tradition that I will not steal them without fair trade or challenge.

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My magics are varied and odd, and I do not know what of them you may value; so for now it may be best to trade in gold. 

She separates out the beacon from her Shapechanged form and operates it with her telekinesis. Gold, Dragon's Ransom, boxed, 1/100th.

A single chest appears at her feet; she pulls the top open with one heavy claw and displays the gold coins packed in aluminum foil inside.

I have more chests like this, ready to be called, identical in every respect. How many such chests would you demand for all you know?

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All I know is a very great amount indeed. While it is indeed an impressive amount of gold to produce so casually, the greatest Treasures can neither be seen nor held. Secrets are a class of Treasure altogether different. I cannot trust that which has a nature I do not understand. You are as ignorant as an abandoned egg, and clearly not one of the Kin, so I must keep in mind the good of the world, not merely my own benefit. You may think me strange for it. None the less, I cleave to this path. For each bounty of gold, I will answer... Eight questions that do not touch on the deepest secrets of the Draak, which I decide by my own judgement.

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I would barter with you, but in the name of friendship I will accept your price. For this, eight questions.

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The four-limbed dragon gives off a sound that parses as derisive amusement. 

'Friendship'. A strange music. It will not win you favor. There are those who are useful to each other in one way or another, and those who are threats to each other, and those who are neither. You seek knowledge that I can provide. I seek golden Treasure. We each have something the other wants. That means a fight or a trade... And I prefer a trade at this time. Very well, acceptable. My answers will of course be reasonably elaborate and complete.

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My first question, then. What "songs" are common among your people?

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I sing now of the symphonies of power laid out for all true Kin of Above and Below to follow, if they are able to grasp greatness. Each song-path has its own beauty and merit, and any worthy Draak's music contains strands of many. The fundamentals are the Greatest Four, each an aspect of Reality and music that all Kin should strive to integrate. Cultivating one's understanding of the Greatest Four drives a Draak to greatness; Neglecting the fundamentals of our Music leaves one a pathetic and weak creature.

I sing now of Earth; Of vastness and stillness beyond thought. A slow and patient song, stillness and solitude. A song of inescapable facts and inevitable continuation, perfect strength for all Eternity and a beat that goes on for ever. Eons pass and even Draak-Kin live and die and live and die again, generations upon generations; Planets remain. Earth is the unyielding stubbornness of Granite that will weather all harms. The Foundation. The Measure. The Axis.

I wing now of Water; The essence of life, fluid and flexible. A river cannot be destroyed easily; Bite it and it flows from your fangs; Crush it with stones and it seeps through the cracks. The song of blue teaches one to be ever ready to try a new path, for to live is to change. A music of understanding, healing, and change. Water is empathy and grace, embracing and nourishing, always journeying but never arriving. The Connection. The Catalyst. The Flow.

I sing now of Air; Everywhere and always in motion, dancing eternally. A music gliding through and above and around everything, untouchable and uncapturable. Barring not the way, but capable of blowing with such strength as to bring Destruction. Always exploring, always playing, carrying dust and seed with playful curiosity. Air is speed and cleverness, moving as the wind and carried swiftly over mountain and sea alike. The Breath of the world, high as Mind and bright as Hope.

I sing now of Fire; The urge to grow and consume, to live and breathe. The music of Fire is a fierce litany, sung for all to hear and refusing all challenge. A pleasurepain desire, always grasping, always reaching, always seeking Greatness. A defiance against the cold and darkness, to sing 'I live! I live!'. Fire is power and ferocity and strength and destruction, for nothing in the world can stop a blaze once it grows strong enough. The Joy, the Desire, the Challenger.

The Greatest Four are not the only Music which our kind follows.

I sing now of Wisdom; To create a balanced and nuanced understanding of the world. There are many ways of interpreting things, as a rushing river is entirely different to a fish, a bird, and a Draak. Reality and Nature will always have new surprises to give, and a balanced, nuanced mind is better able to take advantage of each new situation. Those who follow the path of wisdom study and create artefacts, gather knowledge of many things, and often prove unexpectedly dangerous when their experience allows them to grant surprises to their foes. Wisdom is a surprising and bewildering music.

I sing now of Tradition; The balance of Nature has been maintained by Draak-Kin for eons. Ever since the Sun and Earth, the greatest father/Giver and mother/Birther of our world, sung their beautiful Music to create Draak-Kin, it has been maintained. We are placed above the goodbeasts and plants and below the heavens, and tasked with maintaining balance. Even when advantage can be gained by abandoning the rites of challenge and truce and courtesy, it is a thing of Greatness and pleasing to the spirits to remain steady for ever. Tradition is a continuance of the First Song, and gives the whole world strength.

I sing now of Survival; For some, Tradition is nothing. Wisdom is nothing. All that matters is avoiding the silence of Death. Of the two immutable laws, to Destroy and Consume has primacy above all. Nothing is worth dying for. Everything is an acceptable cost to continue drawing breath, clawing and fighting. Poaching, theft, ambush, and even that most horrible crime, LYING, are all acceptable claws on a Survivor's forelimb. Strength requires no apology or explanation.

...And yet one more Music I have been reminded of by the notion of 'friendship'. I sing of Enkindling, the subtle art of raising the Goodbeasts of the land to greater heights than they could obtain, by somehow sharing one's inner flame and soul. Thus they take their new place above the beasts but below true Kin, with powers and minds appropriate to their station, instruments joining with their creator in a greater song. A potent and unusual tune, one that carries many risks and uncertainties I am sure.

I trust this answer is satisfying.