From Fae do we hail

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley,” Kirton’s deep voice rumbled across the council chamber, “yet Doom Strikers now stalk to eastern territories.”

His glance panned the room, landing on the council’s draconic representative. “Bunniarth, The Life Giver” or “Bunni” to most on the council was one of the oldest gold dragons alive. As compassionate as she was majestic, she had been a protector of the lands for many centuries. However, in her more humanoid form, she was a bit eccentric.

“I’m going to assume you are not insinuating I had previous knowledge of these occurrences?” Adjusting her small cat eared headphones, the fiery intensity of her accusation was clearly for everyone in the room. Many of the council members dropped their heads so as not to be drug into the heated debate now spiraling out of control.

“No one is accusing you Bunni,” Caminwe interjected, “but as the only representative for dragon kind on the council, we have to ask.” Caminwe Larenhan, the representative for elven kind, glared at Kirton.

The conversation at hand had gotten a bit too heated for her taste and with the sudden pointed commentary, it had just risen to another level.

“We must know how the portals are being opened.” Sorcha stood, clearly tired for their long deliberation. “That’s the bottom line. The Doom Strikers came through a portal, right? And we all know they can be bred or bought on the black market.” This time she looked directly at Kirton, his eyes averting her gaze. “I say we each meet with our brightest and see what possibilities there are currently for this phenomenon.”

Never in the history of the Dysius had anyone been able to open portals to specific destinations.

“Is it technological?”

She looked towards Groodmuck and in response the dwarven representative nodded his understanding.

“Is it mystic?”

This time her gaze fell upon the witch Nissa, who also nodded.

“Could it be magical?”

To her immediate left she placed a hand on the fairy queens’ shoulder, who clasped hers in acknowledgment.

“We must not allow this to continue.”

From across the table Drogo, the council representative for were beasts, caught himself from releasing a small growl of pleasure. He enjoyed watching Sorcha in her element. The commanding presence, the domineering spirit. His tongue almost lulled from his toothy maw, as he attempted to maintain control. This was not the place or time. And he could see Kirton about fed up with the vampire giving orders.

“To Sorcha’s points,” Drogo stood scritching Bunni’s currently rabbit-like ears as he rose. He was the only one allowed such privileges. The gold dragon had come to, respect, the current leader of the Wind Prowlers and the head of Clan Sablemane. “The aurora has had designated scheduling since before my time. What Sorcha says is true, we must seek all possible explanations for these random disruptions. However, I think today we have been in session for far to long.” Glancing out at the 4 moons of Dysius, the first of which now waned into the horizon, “I suggest we reconvene once each has had time to investigate.” A gentle nod to Kirton signaled the severity of the moment’s intensity and his respect for the Panthratian’s king.

“Very well. All in favor of ending tonight’s deliberations?” Raising a massive, clawed hand, Kirton scanned for the others decision. A resounding 100% followed suite. “Let it be so. Each oversees research via the methods of their expertise. Through proper channels, please work together if something is not within your skillset. Meeting adjourned.”

Rising from the table everyone gave a brief bow before breaking into their usual social circles. Some merely shuffled away, the bright lights of the council room not the most pleasant of places for them.

Drogo felt a slight pull as he turned to leave the hall. Bunni, swiftly pressed against him.

“Coming by the shop?”

Bunniarth ran the best weapons and magic shop in Xetvale, the Capitol of Dsysius, and Drogo was one of her biggest customers. Tonight though, was a little different.

“Drogo?” Sorcha sidled up beside him as Bunni pulled him towards the door. Bunni already had plans to entertain Drogo, unbeknownst to him and she didn’t need some blood sucking old bat hag interrupting her plans.

Caught between them Drogo, spun. Deftly and gracefully breaking both of their embraces. The spin ended in him bowing before both.

“I do apologize ladies, but unfortunately duty calls.”

As if on que, a cacophony of howls erupted across the night sky. Shirking his shoulders, the werewolf smiled a toothy grin before sauntering towards the nearest exit.

“You are always appearing where you’re not wanted.” Bunni scornfully crossed her arms.

“No darling, I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” Smugly she took a few steps towards the exit Drogo took. “Shouldn’t someone of your age, be after “other” prey?”

Nodding up towards Kirton she chuckled. Before Bunni could scold her, Sorcha evaporated into a cloud of mist and bats, taking flight through the large balcony windows of the council chamber.