Combat kicked off in a flash of motion. Kord drew his handaxe, Vektor loosed an arrow, I darted out from my cover, and Scrapscale drew. Trusting in his goblins to keep Kord busy, Scrapscale fired off a round on Vektor. It hit him in the shoulder, but from what I could see, he took it like a champ and his arrow flew true, piercing a goblin through the chest. Kord's axe took flight and embedded itself in a goblin's head, bringing the poor creature down. All of this happened as I slunk my way towards Scrapscale. Coming close, I made a silent prayer to the Raven Queen and channeled her divinity through my connection to the Weave, the thread and source of magic binding all of creation.
Her power manifested through me in the form of a curse, one that can make opponents more vulnerable to damage. I finished closing the distance and thrust out with a rapier I'd found earlier among the wreckage. I'd approached him from his left side and slid the blade under his arm, through his upper ribs, through a lung, his heart, his other lung, and out the other side. Scrapscale looked down at me in shock, the pain only beginning to grip him. "This is the way of things, dragonborn," I said to him, "Better luck in the afterlife."
I dragged the rapier out of his torso, giving it a good sideways jerk as I did so to make sure his life was severed. Only three goblins were left. A goblin dove over the skiff and took cover behind it, wary of thrown blades and bow-launched death, while another one seemed to try starting the skiff back up. I moved to engage the former, seeing Vektor run up to the skiff. He'd dropped his longbow during his approach, picking up a dead goblin's shortsword to parry a strike as he jumped onto the skiff and grabbed the slain man's gun. He dove off the skiff with it, landing a precise shot on the goblin trying to operate the hovercraft-like vehicle, felling the creature.
As I dueled the goblin, for it surprisingly matched me blow for blow for a few seconds, I glanced at Kord to make sure the large man was doing well. It was for naught, however, as I saw him use his halberd to impale the goblin that Vektor had parried before, raising it high and flinging it off of his polearm. I finished off the last one with a slash across its neck following a low feint, but not before taking a grazing cut against a rib. Cleaning my blade, I looked at the results of our battle. F couple of injuries on our part, but no casualties.
"What a glorious battle! You move with the grace of a bobcat, little one!" shouted Kord, laughing raucously.
"Thanks Kord, you skewer a goblin better than any chef could hope. That was some fancy shooting, Vektor. Is your shoulder doing alright?" I asked, worried for my new companion.
"Hurts like a bitch, but it'll heal," he told me, giving away a country twang, "You're cut up somethin' fierce there yourself, Constantine."
I looked down at my side and saw that despite my best efforts, there was blood seeping over my studded leather armor. Luckily the hardened leather plates and rivets had weakened and diverted the blow, lest this be a much more grievous wound. Vektor and I sat down on the skiff and took a short rest. Thanks to an ancient magic ritual taught to most adventurers, we were able to access some of our vital essence, speeding the recovery of our wounds. It can't be done too often, lest one give in to its adverse effects, but a few nights of good rest will usually do the trick.
Over the course of an hour, we nursed our wounds and patched our clothing as best as we could while Kord, uninjured, kept watch for any new threats. He kept silent vigil for a long while, seeming to arrange his thoughts in that time. How he could stand the desert sun in his chain mail, I had no clue. Eventually he turned to us, a bright smile on his face, and spoke.
"Gentlemen, we've shed blood together. You two more than I, surely, but the blood of our enemies was shed just the same. I've known this bond before and can recognize it at a glance. The bond of allies, working together for success, survival, and gods damn it, glory. I won't lie. I don't see myself in either of you... at all. I am a soldier, raised to do battle. Vektor, you're a sharpshooter, truly a mean shot, not afraid to take a risk. You, Constantine, seem to have many tricks, but you hid well and struck from the shadows more viciously than many of the covert forces I've fought alongside with."
Kord took a deep breath at this point and spent a moment choosing his words further. Vektor and I glanced at each other and based on his growing smirk, I saw that he could also tell where this was going.
"We're bloodbound, men. We're strangers in this land and we've already been attacked. I propose a partnership. We need to find a way off this wretched wasteland, and it will take everything we have. Are you with me?"
I smiled at him. These speeches were always a bit too sappy for me, but the storyteller I always wanted to be couldn't help but connect with Kord's emotional display. "Well, you need someone to keep an eye on your back. I can do that well enough," I tell him, a smile betraying the stoic words I was saying to him. Standing on the skiff with him on the ground, I was just above his eye level. Vektor joined him on the sand and said that "If everyone else's a damn dirty bastard like these folks we had to take care of here, I'd reckon it's best to stick with somewhat decent folk like yerselves."
On those sands and outside the crash that should have stolen our lives, we shook hands as equals and became brothers for a common cause. Life, freedom, and some damn camaraderie.
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Having finished our rest, I decided to bring up a point left almost unacknowledged. The goblins had mentioned something about a copper dragon in the ship's wreckage, something that worried me. If dragons are common here, surviving would get a lot more difficult. Having voiced my concern to the others, we decided to enter the ship and take a look around. Maneuvering through the wreckage, we made our way to the old door to the cargo bay that was still standing.
We were surprised when it tried sliding open, shooting sparks everywhere, but it only opened by a few inches before losing what little power remained. Luckily this was wide enough for Kord to get a grip on the doors and force them open. The inside was in terrible condition, with cargo crates strewn about and the walls and ceiling caving in to varying degrees. The problem, though, was the darkness. While some of the races of the Eternal Universe could see in the dark, None of us fit the bill for that. Luckily, Vector had a solution. He tossed a few salvaged cell phones our way. The screens were cracked and there was no signal, but at least the flashlight feature was working on each of them.
Turning on the light and looking through the room anew, we were shocked. The box we were assigned was in the far side of the room and tipped over, the cover open. Inside were several eggs, all smashed apart, with goo covering all of the surroundings. One egg, however, was different. It was cracked apart... differently somehow. The goo coming from it formed a trail, and as our light followed the trail to a far corner of the room, we were shocked by what we found.
A single copper dragon, newly hatched, poison and death in its mouth and gaze. Its scales were a shiny rusted color, with some light hues of tourmaline lining its underside. Its eyes glowed a bright green as it regarded us coldly. "Be silent and don't make a move," I whispered to my companions, dropping into a harmless crouch, "It is young and afraid, newly born. I will try to make peace with the beast."
I'd learned a lot in my time. We halflings live much longer than humans and I'm currently in my 53rd year, still young for my people. As an aspiring storyteller, I've learned much of dragon lore and know that my odds are better than they seem. Copper dragons, like their other metallic dragons, are predisposed towards good. This one is afraid, having seen a swarm of goblins not too long ago. I spoke soothing words to the dragon, knowing that it couldn't understand me, but hoping that my tone was enough to calm it down.
Something flew over my shoulder as one of my partners tossed a large piece of dried meat over my shoulder, taken from the skiff's rations. The dragon regarded the morsel for but an instant before opening its great jaws and biting into it with gusto. While only a wyrmling, the copper dragon was large enough for me to ride as a mount if it were so inclined as to allow me. The majesty of such a pure creature took my breath away and based on the sighs I heard coming from behind me, I knew my companions felt the same. While it was distracted by the meat, I cast a cantrip on myself, Thaumaturgy. A weak and simple spell, one of its more obscure uses worked well for me.
As I reached out to lay a hand upon the dragon's snout, it looked up at me. My eyes, thanks to the magic, were a bright green, equal to the dragon's own soulful orbs.Between whatever familiarity it could gather, the food, and, to my hopes, our goodwill, it allowed me to pet it. I was instantly attached to the great beast, one who's kind's tales reverberated from great hall to great hall. Dragons! A powerful species hoarding tons upon tons of gold, capable of slaying a party of powerful adventurers with but a breath.
Patting it happily, I was struck by inspiration. It wasn't at all a draconic name, but it had its own majesty. "Redran," I said to the beast, causing it to tilt its head. "Mighty fine name for a mighty fine partner," chimed Vektor, walking up to give his attentions to Redran as well.
Redran regarded all three of us, smiling at him before swallowing the last of the jerky and barking for more. We knew then that as adorable as he was, Redran would be a handful in the days, weeks, or months to come.