"Bugs again? Do humans keep those as pets or something?"
Y'rjar'n reaches for his axe as he moves forward to face this new threat.
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Y'rjar'n is also up early and starts his day as usual, with his martial routine, sparring against imagined opponents. As the others stir from sleep, he rejoins them for a quick breakfast. To Adrian, he replies: "Very good, let us waste no time and make our way there." The dracha quickly gathers his things and is ready to go.
"I don't think the Keep is in such a danger that we need to hurry getting to it at all cost. It would be a waste of our strength to march through the night. Gargerath is right, however, let us put some distance between our camp and these dead vermins." Y'rjar'n tells the others. He then speaks specifically to the sibeccai. You fought well, Gargerath, but your style is probably a bit too wild. Who trained you in the ways of the warrior? There are times when ferociousness alone isn't enough to vanquish your foe."
With two enemies down, the victory seems assured. Y'rjar'n moves to finish off the last remaining ant. He strikes at his back, as it is distracted by Adrian.
Y'rjar'n grins as his axe slices through the giant ant. "Those beasties aren't much of a challenge!" He calls out to the others before turning to attack the ant that's trying to chew his leg .
Y'rjar'n barely feels the ant's bite through his armor and thick scales but he still turns his attention to the ant attacking him. He swings his axe again, hoping to pierce the insect's natural armor this time.
Y'rjar'n draws his axe and cautiously moves to Gargerath's side, shield first and wings wide. When he sees the right opening, he brings his axe down to chop the overgrown vermin.
Y'rjar'n thinks for several seconds before responding. "Tyrants? I'm not sure I fully understand the term. They rule, if that's what you mean, and only fools would oppose their magnificence. As for their business, this is their land, as per the pact made by the great Dragonliege Erixalimar with the Giant's ancestors, ages ago. Further then that, I know not, nor would I reveal more if I knew. It is not my place to question the motives of my betters."
The dracha speaks little during the march toward Ebonring Keep. He's usually in front of the group, urging them to keep a relatively fast pace. He's also wary of ambushes and sometimes suggests that they take detour to avoid spots he judges too exposed and dangerous. During rest periods, he's either sleeping or maintaining his equipment in good order. He spends especially a lot of time and care sharpening and polishing his rather large axe. Unlike Ran-Hajad, the dragon spawn has little interest for nature. He mostly observes terrain and the various geographical features for their strategic and tactical importance. Secretly, Y'rjar'n is also somewhat curious to know what those large pillar of stone could be. However, he hasn't voice a question regarding this to the others.
Y'rjar'n heads to the market to buy food (mostly meat in his case) for about one week. Once his purchases are done, he waits for the others to finish up. After convincing Ran-Hajad not to eat all his bread right now, he goes to the town gate to retrieve his weapons and leave.
Y'rjar'n never understood why so many feel the need to intoxicate their body. He likes to keep his mind and body always as sharp as his weapons. Still, the Dracha tries to appear enthusiast to the other while refraining from taking any alcohol. "Everyone seems in accord. Let us gather our things and go seek this keep." Y'rjar'n takes the coin bag and the map off the table. "Miss Silvertongue, would you suggest any place in this town where we can buy provisions for the road. Salted meat, sausages and the like?"
Y'rjar emits a weird growl, perhaps the dracha version of a chuckle. "Heroes! Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Who knows? We might just end up being Rhodin food." He pauses before questioning Bean and the others. "This Ebonring Keep, how far away is it? I suggest we leave as soon as possible. Once I recover my weapons at the gate, I'll need little beside food to sustain me during the trip."
Y'rjar'n also stands up, next to Bean. "Very well, I will swear that will help this Iriana. It seems like a better thing to do then to wander the land aimlessly."
"I will swear an oath if need there be. I just hope the rhodin can prove to be worthy foes to test my mettle."
Y'rjar'n gulps down one last piece of pork before leaning forward, now more interested by what Bean has to say. "An honorable task, and well paid, I'll participate. It might even help my creator's plans for this region. You said you weren't sure we would be the ones for this job, are you sure now? I personally have my doubts about the giant ... Do you have anymore instructions for us? I'm guessing you're hoping that we can solve this Iriana's problems before Colonel Nye-Fedoran can. It could help you convince others that you don't need the giants to defend yourselves."
Y'rjar'n nods slowly. "Wiser words." He says simply. As he grabs a piece of pork, he also adds: "Miss Silvertongue, I'm guessing you're the one who invited me here, to this club. I wonder whatever you have anything to propose me or you simply wanted to exhibit me as a symbol of change?"
If the dracha had eyebrows, Y'rjar'n would raise one. While he is somewhat unnerved by the faen's speech, he's still curious to see if she wants anything else of him. He moves forward and sits at Bean's table. He refuses any alcohol offered but looks to order some food if possible. Meat of some kind would be is choice. Y'rjar'n also questions to Bean Silvertongue. "So you desire change for change's sake alone? While one must adapt to new situations, ignoring the wisdom of the elders and the old ways is foolish."
Surprised by the chanting, Y'rjar'n makes a slight snarl and rises his wings high. "Settle down!" He says loudly. "I know not what you've heard of my kin but I'm not here to save yours. I'm not even an envoy of the Dragons, if that's what you're looking for. I'm a simple warrior, one unworthy of such honor."
As he makes his way to the club itself, Y'rjar'n stares in turn at people in the crowd. He nods in recognition at those who sustain his stare but frowns at those who shy away from it. With the square crossed, the dracha boldly enters the private club, eager to see what awaits him inside.
"Yes, let us go. I know not what these liars want of me but it should be interesting."
Y'rjar'n sighs slightly, a bit bored by the whole situation. "Very well, don't betray that slaver you call master. Run back to him and tell him of your failure. Or don't, I don't really care. Just don't try to extract some kind of revenge ... I won't be so merciful if I ever see you again."
Satisfied with the answers they got with the woman, Y'rjar'n steps away from the downed sibbecai. "Adrian is right, let the woman conquer her own enemies. Perhaps this isn't our fight." Not able, or even willing, to hide the saber on his person, Y'rjar'n tries to find some place out of view to stash the weapon. The dracha doesn't want it to be used against him again.
Y'rjar'n narrows his eyes at Gargerath. "Who spoke of more violence? While I enjoy defeating my foes in combat, I am no savage beast that plays with its prey before the kill. Besides, I was merely asking for opinions. We can simply leave him here unharmed, I care not. He is no threat to me"
"I don't understand why you Giant-friends wall yourself in your cities and then enforce so many rules... It makes me want to leave this place not stay." When the downed sibeccai stirs, Y'rjar'n walks to him and puts one of his feet on his enemy's chest. "I didn't thought he would regain consciousness so quickly. Perhaps we should ask him a few questions?" He asks the others.
As Adrian asks his questions, Y'rjar'n kneels beside the unconscious sibeccai to retrieve the saber's scabbard. He talks as he secures it around his own waist. "To the victors the spoils, I suppose. As for the defeated, let them go spread the news of our victory. I don't think those thugs will want to fight us again."
Now that the fight has ended, Y'rjar'n takes a more relaxed pose while making a few practice swings with the sibeccai's saber. He looks almost disappointed. "That fight was over before it even started ... I suppose the guardians of this cage would look badly upon me if I kept this weapon?" He asks to no one in particular.
Seeing that Gargerath is trying to deal with the one holding the woman, Y'rjar'n moves on the saber-wielding sibeccai. He holds his shield high while rushing forward, almost as if the Dracha wants to slam it on the sibeccai nose. At the last moment, Y'rjar'n instead brings his shield down on his enemy's swordarm while spinning to his left. In this way, he hopes to deflect any blows as well as put him in an advantageous position to steal the sibeccai's saber with his free hand.
Y'rjar'n doesn't care to much about the hostage but saving her seems like the honorable thing to do. Besides, he's kinda been itching to get into a fight with a sibeccai ever since he was confronted by one at the village's gates. "Performing your duty? Ha! Don't make me laugh, you're nothing but common thugs. I think I will make it my own 'duty' to stop the likes of you."
Y'rjar'n move up beside Gargerath, wings raised high. He doesn't seem fazed by the threats. In fact, he seems almost itching for a fight. "I'm not the kind to run away from a confrontation. Now, you're gonna stop barking threats and hiding behind weak hostages. Fight us or flee like cowards, your choice."
Perception:
The Dracha's wings rise slightly as a result of the Sibeccai's warning. His first reaction is to reach for his axe but he curses loudly in Draconic when he remembers leaving it to the gate guard.
Y'rjar'n looks at Sekteth, studying the verrik. He isn't sure he understands what just happened here but he simply shrugs and continues walking toward the Liar's club.
The Dracha scans the passersby and his alert for any sign of trouble. With so many people gawking at him, he can't help but feel slightly homesick for a moment. Such strange people he meets in these lands. Perception
Y'rjar'n nods at the Verrik. "I really should find 'work' too. I'll see what this 'Silvertongue' wants. I don't mind if others come along." Y'rjar'n says but he briefly glares disapprovingly at Ran-Hajad.
"I haven't meet enough of your kind to make such a judgement, Sibeccai. I can however say I don't have much love for this cage's gate watcher." When Casey enters the room, Y'rjar'n asks: "The Liar's Club? This is a peculiar name. Why would you openly declare yourself a liar?" Y'rjar'n also replies to Sekteth in the Dracha's simpler Draconic dialect. He deploys his wings slightly as he speaks. "This is hardly surprising. While we are far from being the Dragons' equal, we Dracha share some of their magnificence. Simple beings can't look at us without being impressed."
Y'rjar'n is up early, as per his normal habit, and heads outside to work on his daily routine of exercise. He does this training to keep his strength, endurance and skill to the highest possible level. Once he's done, he returns to the inn and orders a large helping of ham. "You have a problem with any of those, Sibeccai?" He asks Gargerath.
"Well met Adrian, I am called Yrakxil'arjar'n, but most use the simpler Y'rjar'n." After a pause, the dracha adds: "I have no wish to discuss my reasons for being here, human. I have no obligations at the moment, however. Should you need an extra pair of strong arms for tomorrow's work, I'm your ... man as they say in your language."
"The chicken will serve." Y'rjar'n finds some seating and waits for the food. Once he's done, he will quickly prepare himself for the night, that is unless some of the guests have something else to tell him.
"Not that I have seen many of your kind. Only the Seven in De-Shamod (from a distance, mind you). And one in Gahanis when I visited the Steward." The Dracha lowers his wings slightly. "I was sent in Gahanis, yes. But things got complicated. I am now nothing but a traveler looking for a cause to lend my axe to."
"Yes, first, calm down weakling. I'm not here to hurt you. Your gate guard saw to it that I was disarmed. Second, sustenance and rest are needed ... cooked meat preferably." Seeing his companions reactions to the man-dragon, Sekteth faces the newcomer and says, in Draconic, "A private room is one scale of the golden sun," holding up one finger, "the common room," he says, pointing to where they have bedded down near the fire, "is four scales of the silvered moon." he finishes, flicking up four fingers in a vaguely claw-like gesture, attempting to phrase the comment in the descriptive manner he has seen in draconic texts, referring to coins as scales, and the colors by items of similar hue. Y'rjar'n nods respectfully at the verrik, pulls 5 sp from his belt pouch and puts them in front of the innkeeper. "This should cover my stay."
Y'rjar'n enters the inn with a slow but determined stance. He unfolds his wings slightly so the strangers can get a better look at their magnificence. "Greetings." He says simply after a few seconds of silence.
The dracha follows the giant but he tries to free his hand.
Y'rjar'n eyes the Giant with some confusion. Perhaps he had expected Giants to be more like the Dragons. No Dracha would be allowed to survive with such a deformity. When the Giant offers some flowers, the Dracha's wings shake slightly as he holds his hand up in refusal. "It is a nice trick, but I have no use for flowers. Still, I thank you for the friendly gesture; it's better then what the gate guard gave me. Do you know of any place where I could sit down and recover my strength?"
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