#thin snout-less flare is especially cursed

[spinslash165]

This was Tex's idea.

I don't like it either.

[pai-fr]

An evening with Kambu and Kali words: 1,577 warnings: small fight scene

Morcsbury was dark and stifling on the best of days. Light was an important commodity, especially for dragons not native to Shadowbinder’s realm, but very few rooms within the cursed hill had anything as luxurious as electrical lighting to chase the ever-present dark away. Instead, candles and fireplaces were the most common source of light underground, despite the oxygen the flames used up. There were ventilation shafts in every room and dispersed throughout every hallway, but that hardly did anything to offset the poor health choices of Morcsbury’s residents. Not that many of them cared.

Kambu certainly didn’t as she was shoved down with bruising force onto the canteen table, adrenaline protecting her from her spine’s complaints. Plates and beer mugs shattered as they were shoved aside by her (admittedly undersized) form, dragons scattering from the chaos and salvaging what they could from their interrupted meals. Kambu made a note in the back of her mind to buy a round or two of drinks for everyone to keep them in her favor, but another shove into the wooden table quickly cut off the thought. She snarled wordlessly at her assailant, who clamped their steel-plated claws around her jaws for her troubles and shoved her face away.

Kali was a vicious fighter. Unlike a good majority of dragons, she hardly changed her intensity when fighting either friend or foe, instead preferring to simply stop short of killing or dismembering when tussling with her allies. It set Kambu’s heart pumping and lit a fire in her veins; a slip in focus and Kali would rend her. Her chest heaved to breathe in as much of the smoke-tinged air as she could, breathless from the fight. Her eyes, unable to focus on the larger Wildclaw wth the way her head was forcefully tilted, looked around at the audience they had. At a glance, she could pick out the ones that were relatively new to the hill, their wide eyes and gaped jaws giving them away faster than a bright light in the shadowed woods outside. The ones already familiar with the pair’s destructive antics were already grumbling and moving away, though they kept a careful eye on the two in case the fight migrated.

Kambu groaned, her back beginning to flare and the grip on her jaws beginning to bruise. “Alright, alright. I lose,” she muttered around the claws.

Kali grinned and snapped at the air in front of Kambu’s snout before reluctantly releasing her challenger. “So long as we’re clear,” she grinned.

Kambu huffed and took a moment to compose herself before arduously sitting up, bits of glass and food sliding off her feathers. She rubbed at the base of her neck, the muscle tight and sore. “Hardly my fault if you make such an attractive target.”

“Is that all that’s attractive about me?” Kali smirked as she slid into a seat and swept away any plates that had somehow survived the scuffle onto the floor. “I’m sure my beautiful feathers and graceful body have something to say about that.”

Kambu snorted. “Not my type.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Kali rolled her eyes. “Your type is thin little Skydancers with feathers the color of lava and legs to die for.”

Kambu swiped her tail across Kali’s face, who took the slap like a true champion. “Watch your tongue,” she hissed.

Kali cackled. Kambu huffed and crossed her legs, turning her snout away from the blue Wildclaw.

The two bickered like that for some time, until Bryght came by to tear them a new one for making a mess in the canteen again. The white dragon wasn’t particularly large, but her wings more than made up for it, large and powerful and liable to break a dragon’s ribs if they weren’t careful. Properly cowed, they left to find somewhere else to enjoy the other’s company. Hopefully they’d find an empty room in one of the lower levels, where less dragons bothered to go.

If Kambu had the choice though, she’d be spending her free time with Izel. The Skydancer had been sent to the Ashfall Wastes days before Kambu had returned, chosen to be part of the caravan loaded with weapons shipments. She’d left a note for Kambu in her bedroom, detailing the locations they were stopping at along their trek and when she was due to return if everything went smoothly. The note did nothing to assuage Kambu’s disappointment, but it did save her the time she would’ve spent trying to find Izel in the underground mansion. At least she could run into Kali and start a fight rather than mope around the halls looking for a hint of orange and black feathers.

Kambu and Kali didn’t go anywhere near where the mansion started to become less of a home and more of a haunted manor, instead preferring the muffled chatter of other dragons filtering through the walls to the eerie silence below. They found an unoccupied room soon enough, small enough to discourage anyone else from entering. As with the rest of the sitting rooms, there was a fine rug laid out on the floor and a dark red wallpaper going up to the ceiling, which displayed a woodworker’s elegant craft for only the two to see. The fireplace, which Kambu took the liberty of lighting after Kali stacked it with logs, was flanked by built-in bookcases on either side, holding books and trinkets and an old stained mug someone had forgotten to take with them when they left.

At the center of the room was an oval coffee table, surrounded by two armchairs and a loveseat, all facing the fireplace. They fit the theme of the room nicely, the color of ground coffee and comfortable looking, though a little worn. Kali sauntered around the loveseat and dragged her claws over it, grinning at Kambu teasingly. Kambu rolled her eyes with a snort and plopped down on the nearest armchair, her lips twitching upwards when she heard the other dragon turn up her nose and huff. They sat like that for a time, taking advantage of the alcohol cabinet at the back of the room and pouring themselves liberal amounts of alcohol. As permanent residents of Morcsbury, this was their right.

The drink settled warm in their bellies and loosened their tongues, allowing them to catch up in earnest. After some time of talking about things that didn’t really matter and falling quiet, Kali exercised her position as the overseer of Dumorc’s mercenaries. It wasn’t something either of them enjoyed being reminded of, but they knew its practicality. It was hard to argue when it was easier to send messages through messengers than sending a single letter to each individual when there were new orders. There was less of a chance that they’d be intercepted, or misplaced.

“You’re on guard duty soon,” Kali said, swirling her glass of rum around.

Kambu raised a brow and gave Kali a sideways glance. She downed her own glass and let her arm drop to the chair’s armrest. “Who? Or what?”

“Who,” Kali said. “A Bogsneak named Adrundaal. Apparently, he’s been living near the bottom of Morcsbury for a while now. Not the real bottom, but the bottom of where most dragons bother going.” She sipped at her glass, preferring to make her drink last. “You’ve probably seen him around if you’ve seen something moving through the halls at night. He glows.”

Kambu sent a loathsome look to some dark corner of the room. “What counts as night in this dark forest?” she grumbled, but she knew what Kali spoke of. She did sometimes see a glowing figure in the dead of night, just in the corner of her eye. It always disappeared before she could get a proper look. Not that she’d seen it more than three times during her entire employment. She could've caught the specter if she'd ever had the desire.

“He’s going out farther than usual to find some rare plant for his studies, or something like that,” Kali went on. “Not sure actually. But you’ll need a mask. Adrundaal’s got some illness that other dragons can catch, so breathing in the same unfiltered air as him isn't a good idea.”

“Guarding a sick dragon,” Kambu mused. “What if he should drop dead?”

“On your head,” Kali chuckled. “He’s important.”

Kambu huffed. “I was important once.”

“Once. Now you’re like the rest of us.”

“At least until Dumorc tires of his newest fascination,” Kambu sighed. She wasn’t broken up by the Imperial’s lack of attention. Much. It just annoyed her how quickly the old dragon seemed to forget her in favor of some other Wildclaw he happened to find in the dark. Not that it mattered in the long run. She'd have his focus soon enough, and with that, his resources.

Kambu poured herself another glass and stood. “When will I be guarding him?”

Kali waved her away. “I’ll slip a note under your door. Or come find me later. I’d rather sit here and enjoy the fire than talk more business crap.”

“Fair enough.” Kambu walked to the door, her balance only slightly hampered. She had enough experience with alcohol to remain functional even after the amount of drinks they shared. “You’ll forget, but I won’t. And if I find no note, I’ll be finding you.”

“We’ll see,” Kali said.

Kambu huffed and opened the door to the hallway, leaving Kali to stay with the fire she lit.