Dragon's Spine is a place aptly named. It fully captures the wrath, majesty, and grandeur of dragon kind. The lightning fields surrounding the mountain range in the center give the air a static taste. Perrath quite enjoys this place for these facets, however, the irritating thing about it is that mortals often find themselves in danger and in need of rescuing. Oftentimes, these missions are simple: wander about in the wilderness for a few days, rough up a few beasts, and return with the mortals either dead or alive. Honestly, he chooses the easier or more rewarding of the two options in most cases.

Today, his adventure isn't a solo endeavor, however. He travels with another, the young Einheria. She's an interesting sort, not a typical mortal. In fact, he's not convinced she's a typical mortal at all. Aspects of her appearance seem familiar, but they're vague enough that he can't quite put his clawed finger on them. If he's going to be traveling with anyone, at least it's someone interesting like her. So far, their conversations have been basic, but they've only just set out.

Currently, they seek the mines somewhere along the mountain path, and once they find the mines, they must find this cave in a few survivors fussed about. And then they must "rescue these miners at all costs, if possible." The important factor here is "if possible." For all he knows, they're all dead. That would be preferable, but then again, it's difficult to lug the bodies of six miners back to Skypeak Village. So perhaps he does wish for them to be alive and capable of walking. Yes, that would be preferable. 

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Renown quest link

Dragons are, naturally, one of the few things within the world Einheria is well-acquainted with.

Being one herself, as well as having been raised by a particularly old frost dragon, the tales of dragons were never one of those things she had to rely too much on fairy tales for; she understood well her own instincts, her own body, her father's and her own abilities to switch freely beyond a more delicate, humanoid form and the majesty of a true draconic body-- even if it is not an ability she can tap into at the moment. Either way, she's never been overly curious about her own species's history, about the image they supposedly project-- which is why she can't help but be a... bit surprised at how thunderous and oppressive the energy in the area known as Dragon's Spine feels, a show of brilliant but nearly strangling power.

Similarly, she cannot help but be a bit taken aback by the aura her companion for the day exudes-- a draconic man by the name of Perrath, who wears his serpentine features with unabashed pride, severity worn on his face and tongue alike. He's intimidating, to say the least-- a far cry from the gentility of her own father, the soothing aura of his frost-cold hands.

Still, as timid as Einheria feels in Perrath's presence... he seems to bear the capability for kindness, considering he's here with her, coming to the rescue of miners neither of them have met. There must be compassion in his heart, despite how staunchly armored.

"Sir Perrath," she says quietly, almost meekly, as if uncertain whether or not she's earned the right to speak in his commandeering presence. "W... Where, precisely, did they say the mines were, around these mountains...? It certainly feels as though we've been searching for quite some time..."

It's been a while of walking in silence or a collection of annoyed huffs. Traversing the mountains hasn't been the easiest of journeys. The girl following at his heels speaks up finally, and he looks over his shoulder at her. There's no judgment from him, but he still lets out another huff as he replies. "That's a good question. You would expect a town subsisting on mining as their main source of income to have a better of idea where this damned place is. Foolish mortals could have at least provided a map." His dragon maw scoffs at the situation, and his voice pitches to mock them. "Oh, just follow the road a few miles; you'll find the mining camp!" He growls in annoyance. "It'll be easy. Not too tough to get there, just a long walk!" His arms spread open wide, motioning to the vast expanse of mountains around them. "A long walk they say! A stroll through the majesty of dragons past is certainly the kind of stroll for a creature like me!"

In a beat of what can only be called comedic timing, the ground rumbles below them. Perrath goes quiet and looks around like a hunter stalking prey. His eyes dart in all directions, and his nostrils flare while he focuses. Until this moment, he forgot someone mentioned rockslides becoming more common in the area. An earthquake? Or something else. Things stay still for a few moments, and he lets his shoulders relax then he continues walking. 

"We must be close to the site," he says. A rock shifts below his foot, and he catches himself, then he looks to Einheria and offers a hand to help her down the small ledge. "Be careful of loose stones. Tell me of your skills, little one." 

Although he's hardly done anything especially terrifying to warrant it, Einheria cannot help but startle a little as Perrath huffs before replying, but she's quick to amend her composure, reining in the tension rippling through her body with great care. Oh, she doesn't want a figure as noble and glorious as Sir Perrath to think she's meek as a field mouse...! That wouldn't do, not when she wants to convince him that she's a worthy travel partner, as well as worthy adventuring partner! So she irons out her posture, adopting the best simulacrum of the air of a warrior she can muster, walking with every ounce of confidence she can force through her shaky legs.

"A map indeed would have been beneficial," she practically whispers, her voice tiny in contrast to Perrath's harsh, confident growl of one. "With all of the details we were given, one would think they would include something as vital as a distinct guide..."

Einheria practically squeaks with worry as the rocks shift beneath Perrath's feet, habitually moving to try and help him, but she pauses as he gets his own bearings, not wanting to overstep. She just... nods politely, taking his hand with a gracious miniature bow, squeezing it gently as she starts walking down the ledge. Despite all of his harsh edges, it's moments like these that remind her, just a little bit, of her father-- and it's.. comforting.

"Thank you, Sir Perrath, your kindness means the world," she says softly, genuinely, offering him a little smile. "Well, my father taught me much of close-quarters combat with a polearm, as well as the means to defend myself with ice magic-- he always said it was important that I knew the way to keep myself safe in both forms, especially the more delicate human body. His advice has paid off quite a bit, I would say-- I just hope I can keep up with you."

The dragon paladin's head tilts at that. "Both forms?" he inquires. Perrath has some suspicions of Einheria as she possesses some supernatural qualities not befitting most mortals. Plus, she hasn't been cautious of him in this humanoid dragon form like others have been. In fact, most dwarves actively scorn him, but they sure lowered themselves before him to beg for his help. In actuality, Einheria moreover received their request and brought it to the most well-equipped for the job. If she is perhaps some entity -or someone like him, perhaps- then his pride in his form only becomes moreso. He hopes this conversation will tell. 

Carefully making his way down the mountain path, he snorts, but this time not in annoyance. It's almost pride. "Your father seems a wise man," he says, his head held high. "Because of the skills you learned, he will worry less for your safety. He can worry even less now that you are at my side in this endeavor of conquering..." Being lost. "...a collapsed mine! The very earth will quiver before our might! The ground will shake beneath our feet! Ginma himself will feel the pain of defeat as we-"

The ground rumbles violently beneath their feet again. This time boulders shift from their resting places. It's almost as if Ginma heard the challenge, and the two dragons will need to prove themselves in the face of the oncoming rockslide. 

As confusion etches itself into the scales of Perrath's face, a look to match settles on Einheria's, surprise sewn into the quirk of her eyebrow and the purse of her lips; is he truly so surprised to hear her mention her second form? She supposes it's quite fair, of course; this is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that others have not recognized her as a dragon. It is quite understandable, and often times preferable; she would not wish to strike unnecessary fear into the undeserving simply for her lineage, after all.

"Why, yes, Sir Perrath, both forms," she says carefully, her gaze never wavering from his face, studying the familiar, serpentine edges of his countenance for all the shifts in his expression, as if afraid he'll recoil at her answer. She continues holding onto his hand all the same, though, her unease not running so deep that she'll flinch away entirely. "I... I apologize, I forget I pass quite easily as an ordinary human girl, in the eyes of many. I am a dragon like yourself; nowhere near as esteemed, nor as powerful, but a dragon all the same."

As if to prove her claim, Einheria gestures to the point of her canines, the slits of her pupils, the faint, opalescent scattering of scales across the heights of her cheeks, scarcely noticeable with the way her bangs are cut to frame her face. They're all little signs, but signs nonetheless.

"A-Ah, well, I am confident my father would be most pleased to know I am working beside someone so capable!" she says brightly, beaming over Perrath's praise for her father, eyes as bright as dawn-lit icicles over the other dragon's apparent faith in their capabilities. "T-Together, through frost and flame, we shall... conquer!"

All the confidence of her declaration fizzles with a rather inelegant squeak as the ground rumbles, the foreboding signs of a rockslide beginning to slide into place around them. Einheria's brow furrows, anxiety already climbing within her chest, the permafrost of panic beginning to wash over her heart and veins in one quick, sweeping motion-- but she cannot afford this, now. Perrath has placed his faith in her, implied that her father would have pride in them both, and she cannot let her beloved father or her newfound companion down!

She bites her lip, lifting up her free hand to summon her glaive in a shower of sparkles and snowflakes, twirling it in her hands to dig the blade into the ground. It's hardly enough to stabilize them for long, but it can buy them a few seconds to plan, to think.

"Sir Perrath," she says carefully, pensively. "We will have to choose our next actions very, very wisely."

It brings the dragon great pleasure to hear Einheria is also a dragon. She's right, the signs were there, but he didn't want to make too many assumptions of the girl. Her soft-spoken voice and gentle nature deserve to be protected, as all kin should be. He estimates she's a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. If only a battlefield existed before them. 

But with the ground rumbling and rocks tumbling, she's absolutely right. Choose your next actions wisely. Perrath's eyes dart around. They have to move, but the direction would be imperative. Up won't do any good, and neither will down. This rockslide can't span the whole mountain, so they'll move to the side! Damn, if only his wings were functional at this time! Something he can lament should they survive this situation. "Don't let Ginma's wrath be the death of you, little one! Move!" His claws dig into the dirt and launches himself in the direction they came. All that matters now is run, run, run. Avoid the rocks, find a place to cover. There's a ledge over there!

"Stay on my tail!" he shouts, scrambling across the mountain as fast as he can. His destination? A rather large, oblong rock that juts out of the side of the mountain. 

Although a situation like this would ordinarily set panic spreading through Einheria's veins like morning frost over the remnants of an evening storm, something about all of this lights a fire within her instead.

There's a focus, a clarity in those lavender eyes as she unearths her glaive, keeping it in hand in case she needs to call upon it as a crutch once more, but she pours all of her energy into her steps forward, into running, into following just behind Perrath, hellbent on ensuring that they both manage to get out of this as safely as possible. The ground rebels beneath her feet, tumultuous and angry, threatening to collapse beneath them both at any moment, but she cannot allow herself a moment of panic. This is no time for what-ifs or worries, this is a time for quick, unburdened action.

She silently does as ordered, running forth, careful not to slip as the earth shakes beneath her-- confident as a knight in shining armor, steady as a queen, a fairy tale in flesh and bone. Einheria squints as she tries to catch sight of what Perrath is charging for, hope flashing across her face as she catches sight of what he must have: stable ground, a rock, big enough for the both of them to cling to for the moment.

It's within reach, reasonably. She could do something a bit reckless.

Einheria spins her glaive, gripping the pole with both arms and digging the blade into the earth, launching herself off of the ground and vaulting herself forward, a yelp of equal parts delight and anxiety falling from her lips as she practically flies forward. Her landing is unstable, unsteady, only mercifully just managing to avoid twisting her ankle, but she settles against the rock just enough, and spins to look at Perrath.

"Sir Perrath!" she cries, extending her free hand. "Take my hand!"

There's something odd about his worry over the seemingly fragile girl. With most others in this sort of situation, he would likely run on his own, leave them in the dust, and not worry for their safety before his own. In this instance, he doesn't find himself putting Einheria's safety first, but he is concerned about it. His mind isn't filled only with concern and focused on reaching the destination of perceived safety; if she were to grab his tail and hold on tight while he bounds across the side of the mountain, he wouldn't complain. There would be some sense of relief.

It must be because she is kin. She is a fellow dragon. 

At least, that's what he tells himself. But she's trained and skilled in her own ways. Before he knows it, the girl soars gracefully overhead, a youngling taking flight. Her landing... leaves something to be desired, and he readies himself to snatch her up if she falls. But she doesn't. The girl presses herself against the rock and even reaches out for him. For anyone else, someone he dislikes, this would be the action leading to their demise. He'd grab their hand and yank them out into the tumbling rocks. Not this time. The girl is strong, and he takes her hand, and together they press themselves into the cover of the overhang. 

The avalanche is thunderous around them. Any words they might exchange would be drowned out. They huddle close to avoid being caught by flying debris, and Perrath's tail wraps around the younger dragoness to protect her from any stray rocks. Several minutes pass before the final pebbles tumble down the side of the mountain. Perrath releases the tension from his body with a sigh, and his tail falls away from Einheria. 

"Are you hurt?" he asks, a surprising note of worry in his voice. 

The only sound that rivals the roar of the rocks falling around them is the sound of Einheria's blood pounding in her ears.

Her breathing is labored, filtered through a sieve of lingering panic and enervation, the sudden burst of energy she'd given to vault herself over here making its absence very clearly known. It will pass, she knows, but her muscles and lungs burn in equal measure with a low and angry flame, one that flowers through her like one of those gorgeous, vibrant flowers she's seen in storybooks, the ones that come from the Moonglade. Even so, even as her body aches, her eyes light up with relief as soon as Perrath's scaly hand slips into hers, and she's all too happy to pull him up to join her in this tiny little corner of safety.

A sigh of relief escapes her as they huddle close, her more diminutive silhouette framed by his, small and warm and safe against the planes of his armor, the shadow of his cape, the curve of his tail; he's all rigid angles and sharp points, a living being sculpted by a blacksmith's sharpest edge, but Perrath feels like comfort all the same. Her father was-- is the very same: tall and intimidating, stoic-faced and hard to read, but she could never read his cold expression as anything other than love.

However her heart pounds amidst the storm of stone, she feels safe.

She is safe.

It takes a while, but the thunder rolls to a stop, the rocks ceasing, and Einheria carefully unlatches herself from Perrath's side, a worried glint in her eye as she looks him over, lip quivering as she searches for any sign of a wound, just about to ask him if he's alright-- when... he asks her the very same thing.

"...Oh," she says softly. "I-I-- I am quite fine, Sir Perrath. A bit... dusty, perhaps a few bruises here and there, but I am not severely wounded. Are you quite alright? Did... did you happen to see what caused such a thing as that?"

Despite her affirmations that she's fine, Perrath gives her a once-over before letting out a snort signifying his satisfaction. "Good, with no injuries, we can continue along," he says. His tail falls limp and uncurls from around her at the same pace as his arm. The dragon peeks out from behind their cover and looks up the mountain for any further signs of danger. Finding none, he crouches and crawls out from beneath the overhang. One clawed hand extends to help Einheria to her feet. 

"I didn't see what caused it, no," he says, dusting his armor off once they're both free. "I felt it, however. The ground rumbled beneath our feet more than once. Whatever caused Ginma's bellyaching must be the source of the landslide. Given the circumstances, I wouldn't be surprised if it is the very same source as whatever trapped the miners." Damn, these miners, getting themselves trapped. They're miners, one would think they can dig their way out of the mines!

Hot breath creates a steam cloud to shoot from Perrath's nostrils again. Another snort. This mission is boring. Tiring. What a waste of his talents -and seemingly Einheria's- in combat. Nevertheless, they will press on. Turning his snout to the mountain peak, Perrath looks through the cloud of settling dust and notices a dark shape within. Or perhaps... below? His nostrils flare a bit, snout pulling up into an annoyed squint. "Come along. There's something up there."

With that, he begins the descent up the mountain. It's treacherous -even more so than before- after the rockslide. Loose rocks and gravel make the path slippery and difficult to ascend. Every few steps results in a small collection of pebbles tumbling back down the mountain. After his third slip sends another shower of shards into Einheria's path, Perrath stops and offers a hand to pull her ahead of him. 

"Walk ahead of me. If you slip, I will catch you." All this to avoid saying he doesn't want to be the cause of her slipping. 

As soon as Perrath crawls out from beneath the overhang and offers her his hand, Einheria is quick to take it, sliding out onto semi-stable ground and dusting any remnants of dust and rock away from her clothing, one hand still tightly curled around her glaive. There's a look of equal parts relief and contemplation on her face as she surveys their surroundings-- it's good to know that Perrath remains unscathed, of course, but for the earth beneath them to rebel so, catching them in such a tumultuous event...? It does not bode well.

Still, she reins in her apprehension once more, managing one shaky little breath before looking up at Perrath, her lips pursing as she lets his words sink in. It was such a spontaneous occurrence-- of course it likely played a part in endangering those poor miners...! Yet, such a thing implied this was a cyclical event, which left the greater question of just why the ground had grown so tumultuous.

"That would make sense," she nods, once again worrying her lip between her teeth, hissing just slightly as she just narrowly avoids nicking herself against the sharpness of her canines. Goodness, she needs to keep her stress habits in check... With that thought in mind, she watches with a tense expression as Perrath searches through the whirling dust, his golden gaze settling just a moment too long on some indistinct shape amidst the dust, his eyes narrowing as they settle on it. "You... believe something to be up there? A creature? Then... it is our responsibility to handle it."

As soon as he sets off, Einheria is quick to follow, using the pole of her glaive as the best support she can manage in their ascent-- even so, she can't help the way she squeaks as the ground gives beneath her feet here and there, stone yielding, a cascade of rock flooding beneath her every so often. She tries to rein it in, not wishing to cause her companion any concern-- but that's when Perrath turns to offer her his hand once again, quickly pulling her before him, as though he's willing to bear the burden of the earth crumbling onto him.

"Thank you, Sir Perrath," she says softly, voice colored by gratitude and just a bit of disbelief, offering him another warm smile. Oh, she'll have to be so careful from here on out... "...What do you think may be up there...? What manner of creature could cause such a thing?"

As he treks up the mountain, carefully watching where Einheria's feet fall and where his will follow, Perrath keeps one hand up to catch her should she slip. The dragoness is sturdy though. Good. Dragons should not fall to simple hazards such as slippery rocks. 

"A creature, an earthquake, perhaps Ginma's wrath itself," the dragon knight grumbles. "Whatever it is..." It's not their responsibility. They could turn and leave, especially if it turns out to be too much for the two of them to manage. There is no shame in self-preservation, but Einheria seems the type to put others first. That's what brought them out here in the first place, isn't it? How does he give a noble yet noncommittal answer?

"We'll do what we must."

After some time traversing the mountain, the two dragons finally reach what Perrath saw before: a gaping hole in the side of the mountain. This wasn't there before, he's certain of it. Looking around, it almost seems like the rubble around the chasm was thrown out from inside of it. Then that would mean the rockslide before was caused by something bursting forth from the earth... What could cause that? He doesn't look forward to finding out. 

They could turn back. Decide the miners are dead rather than descend into this pit of darkness. Or they could return with a glorious story of rescue and resolve. Perrath looks at Einheria. 

"This is our last opportunity to turn back. We could find only dead inside. If this possibility suits you, we will continue. Are you ready?"

For all his steely edges, sharp and cold as a well-forged blade, Sir Perrath has steadily proven to be a man worthy of deep respect.

He is wise, cautious, and, somewhere deep beneath those spiky layers of armor, kind-- not a moment has passed in his presence where Einheria has felt anything other than safe. He may be eccentric and a bit prideful and prone to one or two strange and ridiculous bouts of sardonic rambling, but he has been good to her, and not a moment will come on their venture where she will forget it.

One day, when her journey ends, when she has placed her three treasures back into Skuld's hands and won her father's consciousness back, she will nestle at his side once more and tell him stories; she will speak of a noble dragon in obsidian armor, one who she made a noble rescue venture with, one who reminded her of him as he sheltered her from collapsing stone and crumbling earth. She knows her father will give one of his strange half-smiles, those that reveal so little and yet so much all at once, and she will know that Sir Perrath has Nithoggr Vaetki's deepest gratitude.

A tiny smile plays at her lips as they walk, as the two of them happen upon the gaping maw carved into the mountainside; she should not wear such an expression, she knows, but courage burns within her icy veins as she stands beside her companion, knowing that whatever next befalls them, they will be capable of handling.

"Turn back?" she echoes, the words strange on her tongue. She shakes her head and straightens her spine, staring down into the mountain's mouth with intent burning clearly in her eyes. "Whatever awaits, we will uncover it. I am ready, Sir Perrath-- truly ready."