Celebrimbor Helyanwë (suntdracones) wrote in st_margarets, @ 2014-04-11 21:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | character: ashton hartley, character: blake hartley, location: the dungeons |
Narrative: Why Young Orphaned Dragons Have Keepers
WHO: Ashton Hartley
WHEN: This weekend
WHERE: The dungeons
NPC: Blake Hartley the Dragonslayer
It had been about a month since he'd last needed to come to the school and Blake Hartley was not pleased. This time, however, it wasn't a displeasure he had towards the circumstances surrounding having a Wendigo on campus hurting students and killing teachers. Instead, he'd been called by the Headmistress a week ago and informed that Ashton, the dragon he'd let live, had hurt another student and nearly killed him. Not just any student, either. Ashton had told him on the phone call that the boy he'd thrown in his lair for touching his gold had been Trent Kane, the one he wrote him about sometimes. One of the boys he was supposed to be friends with.
If the adolescent dragon couldn't be trusted with his own friends, how was he to leave him alone around those he didn't like? What if he gained an enemy in his time at St. Margaret's? What if that enemy succeeded in stealing all of his gold? The next phone call the Dragonslayer expected to hear was of the town of Camden to have been razed to the ground by dragon fire and this path of destruction to continue to neighboring towns and cities. His primary objective, drilled into his head by his father, and his father before him, and so on, was to end dragon kind as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Nowadays, the Hartley family line was even charged with removing the corpses and keeping word of the real existence of dragons out of public knowledge. They were just myths. Chthonic legends.
Blake would have come to St. Margaret's straight away, but had had his hands tied hunting down a red female he'd received word about down in the Amazon. Now that the Slayer was rich beyond his wildest dreams on dragon gold, he could travel and pursue his purpose and destiny by hunting dragons all over the world, and not just the isolated few who remained in Iceland. At his earliest opportunity, one red troublesome dragon dead on his blade, he'd caught a plane back to the United States and now was descending into the dungeon after a brief meeting with Ms. Menides.
Celebrimbor was going to prove to be a thorn in his side and he knew he would regret the day he let him live. His ancestors would not be pleased he let a dragon out from under his sword.