Dragonlord

[DoS Archive]

From: dukeuziei@aol.com (Duke UzieI)
Date: 25 Jan 1998 19:44:09 EST



Adonai sat in deep thought before the fire in the study of his Seaside Estate....having opened this house again to build a home with his new love Ariana and to have a place that he could call his own, the rented tower in RhyDin town not withstanding.
The flames in the fireplace danced and hissed before him, speaking in a language he could minutely understand, talking amongst themselves happily as they ate and burned at the wood that gave them life.
He lounged back in the large leather chair, a few miscellaneous field plans for his school for new duelers, the Makron Academy, sitting on the table at his side as he mused idly.
His sleep had returned to him, his mind now eased now that his conflict of loyalty was settled with Dalamar in his own mind, and his plans set and ready for implementation when the time became right.
Adonai had hit the Arena like a bad wind over that weekend, leaving behind little doubt that he was truly the Dragonlord of RhyDin and not some copper made replica that walked the walk and talked the talk.
Nearly driven to distraction by his new love, and as happy as he had ever been in this realm, Adonai felt the changes in the air as if they were palpable tides and currents, their pulling tide edging him onwards to the next confrontation, which, for him at least....would be momentous.
A new love, and a mission that had ever been his, Adonai smiled wryly at the forethought of the Prime Urge....as it had seen much, much farther into the grand scheme than Adonai himself ever could.
He stood then, heading towards the door for another night of readying and reinforcement of his true skills, so as to be more than worthy once the time came.
The fire, dancing its eternal dance became huffy and irritated at being left alone...as its purpose in this world was being wasted without the large thing sitting in front of it to warm. After some decidely fussy hissing, it spat a small coal out onto the floor....burning a small hole in the rug until the coal burned out itself. The fire then collectively grinned and returned to its happy dance.
It never takes much to amuse a fire.