ᴀʟᴛᴜs, ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇʀ, ᴍᴀɢɪsᴛᴇʀ (tevene) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-06-04 14:23:00 |
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Dorian was incredibly familiar with dragons, let’s just say - they were once revered in the Tevinter Imperium, his homeland, and many dragon cults still existed to this day; in Tevinter, their Old Gods took the form of high dragons, which were one of the rarest breeds, fully grown females. Some breathed fire, some expelled the breath of winter, others even breathed electricity - shocking bolts, if you will, and combating them was a matter of knowing which type of dragon it was and the element that would best work with the opposition of what they breathed. He’d faced many in the past - they were highly sought after for their scales, their teeth, their blood. Some, called Reavers, even drank the blood of dragons to take on their powers - this was a ritual undergone, one infamous example involved the one and only Calenhad Theirin, though the blood of a wyvern could be used as well. It was something Dorian avoided - blood magic wasn’t always his thing. However, he was a scholar, a researcher - and he knew that no one had yet figured out a cure for the Blight sickness, black sludge shortening the life of a Grey Warden. In case another Grey Warden showed up in Vallo (the last had been Anders, who - wasn’t exactly interested in prolonging his life, for some reason), Dorian wanted to be ready. He knew Charlie through Atreus, and also knew that Charlie had a whole dragon reserve - which was quite exciting to Atreus, naturally, and admittedly it was to Dorian as well. Dragons were fearsome, beautiful creatures - and much more intelligent than anyone knew. He was interested in discussing the dragons that made their way here, and also perhaps seeing if Charlie would allow him to take a blood sample or two. He arranged for a meeting at the reserve and headed that way, carrying an armful of old books that gave off an earthy, smoky aroma - they were written by the Draconologist Frederic of Serault, a professor at the University of Orlais. Interesting stuff, really. If nothing else, Dorian always enjoyed a good information exchange. The reserve was an unexpected gift from Vallo, and since it's arrival it was where Charlie spent most of his time. Was that healthy or balanced? Probably not on both but he was used to the reserve, had a routine there and frankly after years of minimal living the excess of Vallo sometimes overwhelmed him. At least the Burrow gave him a home that was both familiar and welcoming. He'd have done poorly long term in those modern apartments. Today he had Dorian showing up, who Charlie knew through Atreus and also knew that the other man ran the University, which was of interest to him even if his focus at school had been more hands on studying. Magical creatures. Herbology. Quidditch or rather, flying. Potions not as much, but that may have been the exacting nature and the instructor. Charlie finished washing up and checked the time. Dorian would be arriving any moment, so he went out to meet the other man, smiling as he spotted him. Anyone who appreciated dragons was alright by him. "Dorian," he greeted. "You've brought a library with you." He grinned, intrigued at what the books could be. "Welcome to what used to be the Romanian reserve." “Hello, Charlie - yes, thank you for the welcome. It looks splendid,” Dorian replied, shifting the books to carry them beneath his other arm. Truly, the reserve was spectacular - all this fresh air and the mountain peaks, a celebration of various grays and blues and silvery-white; plenty of space for the dragons to ‘sprawl,’ no doubt, to really spread their wings. He was glad for that - by the end of the Blessed Age, in Thedas, it was believed that all of the dragons had vanished. Though honestly, it was high dragons who lived the high life - they spent much of their time sleeping and mating (if only we were all so lucky), consuming prey brought to them by their drakes. They were also extremely territorial - and when a high dragon did emerge from her lair, it wasn’t uncommon for her to raze a whole village in one breath as she took to the skies. Curiosity about otherworldly dragons was evident. “There’s a Draconologist in my world, his name is Frederic,” Dorian explained, motioning toward the books. “We collected some of his works during the Inquisition. I thought you might be interested in giving his research a look over.” Charlie eyed the books with newfound appreciation, and then offered to take some of the books off of Dorian's hands. As much as the twins teased him for not reading, he was actually an avid reader of books that interested him. And these seemed like they would fall into that category. "Thank you," he said genuinely, eager to learn of dragons in different realms besides this one's past. "We can set these inside and then I'll give you a tour. I'm assuming you want to meet the reserve's two residents?" It seemed unnecessary to come to the reserve and not meet the dragons after all. Dorian gladly passed over the old books, knowing they were in good hands - he was never stingy with information, with knowledge. He had met others from Charlie’s world as well - Rasalas, with her penchant for potions (she’d come to study at both the University and within Skyhold’s fortress library which Dorian considered his domain even if he didn’t live there anymore), for example. They were all in this new world, Vallo, together - and so filling their minds with new tidbits seemed to be one of the most beneficial things one could do while here. Just because it worked one way in your own world didn’t mean it was like that everywhere - a difficult concept for some to grasp. “Yes, I would very much like to meet them,” he replied, excitement present in his tone. “And - if I may? On the way, perhaps I could tell you about what I aim to focus a good bit of my research on in the immediate future. Something Thedosian in nature, called the Blight sickness - but as of now, a cure does not exist. However, it’s something continuously researched in my homeworld and within Frederic’s own research there are notes postulating that dragons may be involved somehow.” And Dorian tended to agree - the evidence was clear, it was simply that no one had figured out the exact formula for a cure yet. "Is that an immediate need?" Charlie asked, more out of concern than anything else. "Dragons have a number of uses when it comes to potions in our world, so it wouldn't surprise me if they proved useful to those from your world, too." The office space at the reserve had been shared, with bookcases lining two walls and a separate room hosting the parchment that made up their paperwork. Desks were scattered among the main room, and Charlie set the books on his, spartan in nature. Only a framed photo of the Weasley family at Bill's wedding identified it as his own. Most of his personal mementoes remained in his dorm, which had also arrive and where he had napped once or twice, but he was still living in the Burrow. "We can skip the living quarters. There's not much to see there," he mused. No, what Dorian would be most interested in was seeing the dragons, and Charlie led him outside and up a short path to where the Vipertooth resided. "This is Nutmeg," he mentioned. "He managed to break free when the reserve arrived and let me chase him for almost two days." Oh, what a beauty. Dorian followed Charlie to where Nutmeg lived - though it wasn’t as if Dorian wandered right up to the dragon and offered a hand to pet the creature. No, he wasn’t stupid, thank you - and he could admire from afar. Which he did, getting as close as possible (but yes, still technically afar) to get a good look - Nutmeg’s scales were a lovely copper shade, like a penny or your mother’s antiques, with black markings and then of course the horns on his head. “Not an immediate need, no,” he answered the question, shifting timberwolf eyes back toward Charlie - once he could tear his gaze from the dragon, that is. “But we had a Grey Warden here once before - if more appear, I would want them to live as long as possible. To try to build some kind of life here, the way others have.” Then he realized he ought to explain what all of that even meant. “Grey Wardens are a special sect of warriors, trained to fight Darkspawn - which pop up every ten or so years, in a Blight, to attempt to take over Thedas. But to become Grey Wardens, they must undergo a ritual where they take Darkspawn essence into themselves, so that when it’s time for the Darkspawn to emerge they will hear the calling thanks to this connection. Only it’s literally black sludge they ingest - it kills some in the ritual, and ones that survive have an unusually short life for their troubles.” Slay Darkspawn and die - it didn’t seem too appealing, yet Grey Wardens were essentially Thedas’s only defense against the Darkspawn. “Dragons, however, there’s something about their blood, their bodies - they form natural cysts around black sludge infections and are shockingly immune. No other species really can say that.” "So not immediately pressing but that could change quickly if a Grey Warden shows up?" And what a fate, Charlie thought. Save the world, at the cost of your own life. Not even show up during the war and risk your life. This path seemed like a given, a one way ticket. "What would you need?" Charlie asked. Because of course he was going to assist with that if he could, especially as he watched Dorian observe Nutmeg. He could always tell when someone had genuine respect for the creatures, and he saw that with Dorian now. Nutmeg snuffed at him, and Dorian could just see the hungry look in his eyes - unfortunately, Dorian himself was not going to become a meal today, but he knew Nutmeg was well-fed otherwise. Goats, cattle, that sort of thing. “Yes, exactly,” he nodded. “With no Darkspawn in Vallo - “ At least not that he was aware of, but again, the only ones who would know about the presence of anything stirring would be a Grey Warden. “There’s really no need for them to be on guard. The Blight sickness would kill them regardless. I just - wouldn’t want that for someone who’s, say, been given another chance to live.” Grey Wardens were noble warriors, who sacrificed much for the good of the world - once they underwent the ritual, it was likely difficult to comprehend giving all of that up (along with the extra abilities being a Grey Warden provided them) which was probably why Anders had wishy-washy feelings about the decision. Still, Dorian wished to be prepared. He didn’t want to just sit on this, especially when he had access to dragons in Vallo. “Back home, I was able to create various concoctions - powders, and the like - to help stave off the infection in the son of my former mentor,” he said. “I believe that knowledge, combined with dragon’s blood, will help me create a permanent cure. I would just need some dragon’s blood samples to work with.” Then he planned to enlist perhaps Rasalas for help and observation - she was a potions expert, after all. "Probably easier to secure that from Norberta, she tends to go along with things better," Charlie said, leading Dorian down toward the Norwegian Ridgeback he'd acquired from Hagrid years before. Both of these dragons were young, but Norberta had been extremely young when she'd first arrived at the reserve, seemingly as Norbert. So Charlie had raised her, and he could coax her into almost anything. Blood samples would not be an issue. Though he'd take some from Nutmeg if needed, there was a far less chance Norberta would attempt to set his face on fire in the process. Each dragon had their own space, so it was a bit of a walk, which gave Charlie time to confirm that yes, he'd agree to this. "This place can be a second chance at life," he agreed, thinking of the various people he knew personally who wouldn't otherwise have that opportunity. "Both of these dragons are venomous, but fortunately their blood is unimpacted. Taking blood samples could be," he grinned. "But I know these two." They walked up to Norberta's space, and Charlie called out her name once. She appeared only moments later, keeping at a distance after spotting Dorian. "Do you know Harry? I have her because my brother and his friends managed to get a friend of mine to give her up, since no matter how skilled you are with creatures, one of these hardly makes for a good pet." “I believe I’ve heard of him?” Dorian replied, stroking his chin. He was pleased that Charlie wouldn’t mind parting with a sample or two of dragon’s blood - it made him feel relieved as well, since this project was going to be an important undertaking. Maybe back in Thedas a cure would be found somehow, but he couldn’t guarantee that a Grey Warden would arrive here in Vallo at a point when science and medicine had reached that milestone - he thought it best to be prepared regardless. “Hello, Norberta - that’s right, I can’t really picture you as a pet,” he waved at the dragon, who resembled a lizard somewhat - ridges on her back, and sort of a brown undertone to her scales. Same family as a lizard, so it made sense. She also seemed a bit friendlier than Nutmeg - therefore, it was Norberta’s blood that would likely provide for the sample. “And thank you, by the way - for agreeing to this,” he added to Charlie. “It means quite a bit to me and will no doubt mean as much to any Grey Warden looking to escape a death sentence.” "Yeah, no problem, mate," Charlie replied. "If we can help, we want to. Well I want to, and Norberta will tolerate a lot from me." Which was good, considering she could devour him if she wanted to. "If you want to stick around a bit, I'll show you how they're taken care of and how we track them when they take off." They were dragons, after all, not born for captivity. The reserve was a place to study them, but also Charlie took his responsibility seriously at keeping them safe. "If you have to leave, however, I won't take offense." Leave? Perish the thought! Dorian gasped, with a healthy dash of faux-dramatics. “Oh, no, I intend to overstay my welcome,” he quipped. “Not too badly, but - what I mean to say is yes, show me everything. How they’re taken care of, and I believe when they take flight that will be lovely to witness.” He wanted to see the dragons spread their wings and do a few laps through the expanse of the blue, blue skies - it would almost be like they were at home in Thedas. Sort of. Just without the bitter intrigue, betrayal, and literal knives in the back. Plus he’d done his fair share of battling high dragons and he’d rather stay on the side of friend, not foe. Point was, he didn’t have much else on his schedule for today. “Lead on, friend - and I promise I won’t get in the way.” No, he’d just observe and be enthralled. Like most anyone would be in the likes of a dragon reserve. |