The Basics of Diplomacy

As Tardwel-Ambuk awoke from a three week slumber, he stretched leisurely and let out a snort of smoke. As he stretched he took a slow look around the interior of the hollow hill that he called home. It was a single room, almost three hundred feet tall, with a roughly eight hundred foot radius that was tall enough for him to stand in, which wasn’t nearly as much as it sounds like for a creature that measures nearly two hundred feet in length from nose to tail. The walls were covered in artwork, tapestries, and bookshelves. Someone who knew these woods well might think that this hill came from out of nowhere, which is not an inaccurate assessment of events, as Tardwel-Ambuk had personally used magic to form it, and as he had grown, had used magic to reform it and make it larger.

Anyhow, Tardwel-Ambuk needed to eat, which I feel is fairly appropriate, seeing as he had just slept for three weeks, and he also needed to shed some scales and wanted to take this time to mark his territory again, all of which required him leaving his lair. So he grudgingly walked towards an empty patch of wall, which separated and spread, creating an exit for him as he approached. He disliked having a noticeable entrance to lair as he napped, closing it off and opening several other, smaller, more discrete openings to let in air. Light was unnecessary, partly because he was sleeping most of the time and partly because he could see in pure darkness as well as most people could see in noonday light. He could also see in noonday light as well as most people could see in noonday light, but that’s a significantly less impressive achievement. Anyhow, as he left his lair, he resealed the entrance with a lazy flick of his tail.

Tardwel-Ambuk took in a deep breath of the crisp spring air, and leapt a hundred and twenty feet into the air, easily clearing the leafy canopy of the woods, and spreading his wings and gliding once he reached the apex of his jump. As he flew, he reveled in the feeling of the wind, filling his lungs with fresh air for the first time in weeks. On one inhale, he caught a familiar scent. In response to this scent, he tucked in his wings and dove below the foliage, startling the deer that were feeding there. He grabbed two of the deer and flapped his wings, catching himself from his dive and quickly clearing the canopy again. The deer let out alarmed snorts and distressed bawls as he ascended to five hundred feet. He tossed one of the deer into the air, whipping his head around to catch it in his mouth, eating it in a single bite. He tossed the other deer into the air and watched it, tracking it as it went up, paused momentarily at the pinnacle of the toss, then began falling. Once it fell below his altitude, he took off after it with incredible speed, catching and eating it while still a good two hundred fifty feet in the air.

Now with some food in his stomach, Tardwel-Ambuk descended slowly, alighting gently on the ground. He then stood on his hind legs, rubbing his chest on one of the stouter trees. This had the dual effect of removing some of the older, weaker, looser scales on his chest to make room for newer, stronger scales, and it also spread his scent, marking this as part of his territory. As he was leaning against this tree, a creaking, splintering noise filled the air before the tree snapped. He dragged his chest and stomach against the rough wood of the now fallen tree, and did so probably more than was strictly necessary, because he enjoyed the sensation. It’s almost similar to having an itch that you can’t quite reach and then finally having a way to reach it. That’s a bad analogy, but frankly, it’s the best I can come up with for someone who isn’t a dragon, and I wouldn’t even need to make an analogy for someone who is a dragon, so you’re going to take that analogy and you’re going to be happy with it.

The act of scraping against the tree not only removed weakened and older scales, but also served to spread his scent in the area as a warning to other dragons that wanted to move into the area, or introduction, seeing as it was the scent of a single dragon and not a nesting, but that’s not important right now. Other types of dragon were careful not to shed too many scales at one time, as that would leave them more vulnerable than they would like, but Tardwel-Ambuk doesn’t have any need to worry about minor details like that, as he is descended from the Shadow Dragons of old. I suppose that also would make him a Shadow Dragon, but that’s significantly less impressive sounding, so just bear with me. The Shadow Dragons are believed to be related to demons in some way, shape or form, but no connection has been proven. The belief is based on the fact that they are the most magically powerful of all the Greater Dragons, and are always surrounded with a protective shroud of dark mist, or shadows, that provides more protection than their scales, which is why they don’t need to worry about shedding too many scales. The aura of shadows is fairly easily dispelled with holy magic or holy light, hence the theory about Shadow Dragons’ possible relationship with demons. You probably didn’t ask, but I wanted to tell you anyway, because what’s the point of coming up with unnecessary flavor text if you’re not going to share it with anyone?

Anyway, once Tardwel-Ambuk was finished scraping off the front of his torso, he moved on. There was one specific place he had in mind to sharpen his claws and exfoliate his back, both of which required a rocky terrain, otherwise he would just create large burrows in the ground without making any actual progress in removing scales. As he made his roundabout way to this rocky area, he would rub his sides and legs against several of the trees, cracking some of them and knocking over three. There were two trees that he stopped by where he positioned himself so that the tree was in the crook where his wing joined his body, then he would flap his wing, splintering the tree, but at the same time removing all those hard to reach scales. During his meandering and roundabout path, he managed to mark most of his territory. He also came across and ate several deer, and a bear, but both of those stories are rather uninteresting and, in the grand scheme of things, don’t really go anywhere, so I’m going to mention them for anyone worried that he went hungry or left his territory insufficiently protected before I move on to the next part. Does that work for everyone? I don’t actually care, and we’re moving on.

Tardwel-Ambuk arrived at his chosen location shortly after noon. The location was a rough, rocky area with several boulders and jagged rocks jutting up. He climbed onto one of the larger boulders, alternating between gripping with his hind claws as he sharpened his front claws, and gripping with his front claws as he sharpened his hind claws. Doing so chipped off parts of the boulder while also scraping off the gray, dulling parts of his claws. He continued this until his claws were sufficiently sharpened, and looked liked little kitten claws made of black obsidian. Rather, they would have looked like kitten claws to a creature of his size, however to a creature the size of a human, they were still roughly the size of the average greatsword. Once his claws were sharpened, he laid on his back on the rough stone ground and wriggled in a very catlike way while also letting out a deep growl of satisfaction, that wasn’t quite a purr, but was close. He had finished shedding the old scales on his back and was just continuing scratching his back against the rocks for pleasure when he heard something that caused him to stop.

“Kitty!” called out an enthusiastic voice. Tardwel-Ambuk froze and looked to where the voice had come from, and he saw a three year old girl. He gracefully leapt to his feet and inspected the toddler more closely. She was dressed in simple, comfortable clothing and carried a dull hatchet. All of that, combined with a short haircut that wouldn’t get snagged in branches or thorns, marked her as likely being the daughter of a woodcutter, or someone else who made their living in the woods. Anyone who made their living in these woods would know about many of the dangerous creatures in them and take steps to placate or avoid them, but this toddler wandered away from her parents and deeper into the woods than was safe, strictly speaking. Because nobody came out here, this was the first human that Tardwel-Ambuk had seen in several years, and, as such, he was as fascinated by her as she was by him.

Tardwel-Ambuk stalked over to the child as the child toddled over to him. He stooped his head down to sniff at her and she put her hand out on his nose. She giggled “Big Kitty!” as he peered down at her, and then, in one swift, clean motion, he ate her. This wasn’t done out of malice, or anger, or even out of any particular hunger, it was done because he hadn’t had the opportunity to eat a human in decades, and he enjoyed the taste. In fact, he relished the taste enough that he wasn’t even disturbed by two voices calling out nearby, getting closer. Once he was through savoring the flavor, he turned his head and saw two people in simple clothing, the man carried a woodsman’s axe protectively in front of him, and was standing protectively in front of his wife, who carried a hunter’s bow.

The husband shook with fear as he spoke tentatively “Pardon me, oh Great and Powerful One, we are looking for our daughter, and we were wondering if you could help us in finding her?”

Tardwel-Ambuk cocked his head to one side. “Small child?” he asked in a smooth, deep voice. The husband nodded. “Carrying an small hatchet?”

The wife spoke up excitedly “Yes, that’s her, where is she? Is she safe?”

Tardwel-Ambuk grinned and let out a small chuckle. “Oh, you aren’t going to like the answer to that question” he said, as he flicked the small hatchet towards them.

They looked between the hatchet and the blood on the dragon’s teeth and came to the obvious, and correct, conclusion. The wife let out a sob as the husband stooped and picked up the hatchet numbly. The husband stumbled backwards, then the two of them turned and ran, heading back towards the town. Tardwel-Ambuk contemplated following them, but he didn’t feel like getting into a drawn out fight in the town today, particularly because he had just shed, and the town would have priests available who could summon enough holy light to dispel his protective aura of shadow. He didn’t think that he would lose that fight, but he would be injured, and he didn’t feel like being in pain today, so he took flight and returned to his lair, reopening the entrance and leaving it open, as he would be staying awake. If the town decided to attack him, they would attack no matter how well hidden he was, so why not greet them with open doors, for he was no coward.

He was correct that the town decided to attack him. First they sent a dozen guardsmen, none of whom even made it into the entrance before being slain and eaten. Once that didn’t work, the town advertised, looking for mercenaries. Over the next year, eight groups of mercenaries went after Tardwel-Ambuk. The town never needed to pay anything, because, while all of the mercenaries managed to make it past the entrance of his lair, none of them could so much as scratch him. After fifteen months, a group of legitimate dragon hunters was sent from a nearby city to help deal with the dragon problem. They managed to counteract his protective aura and crack several of his scales and even give him a few scars before he systematically disemboweled and ate them.

To anyone wondering why Tardwel-Ambuk didn’t simply move, you may recall from earlier in this story that he enjoyed the taste of humans, and now they were being delivered to his doorstep semi-frequently, not to mention several elves and dwarves and orcs and other races, none of which he had had the pleasure of tasting before. It was a veritable buffet. Another reason that he wasn’t going to move is because, what he knew before starting this fight, but the town didn’t know, is there are two different terms that dragons will use to refer to each other. Actually, there are several dozen, but there are only two that are important right now, one translates to ‘dragon’, while the other essentially translates to ‘lizard’. The difference is a dragon will fight to protect himself and his lair and his allies and is territory, while a lizard will find and steal shiny things, but doesn’t fight, just lounges and sleeps in the sun. In the course of fighting with this town, Tardwel-Ambuk was securing a name and a reputation for himself, without even putting himself in a noticeable amount of danger.

Of course, none of that is the actual point of this story. It just sort of sets the background for the actual story. You see, the story of all of this difficulty with the dragon had made it back to the capital city, and they had sent somebody to deal with it. Therefore, eighteen months after Tardwel-Ambuk had eaten that child, a single person walked up to his lair, but he held himself with a different air than the rest. This one man did what all the rest of the hunters combined couldn’t: he made Tardwel-Ambuk nervous.

The human wore no armor and bore only a single sword worn on his right hip, and he approached the entrance of the lair with an unnerving casualness. He called into the lair “Hail, Tardwel-Ambuk, Lord of the Shadows. I am Mordak, and have come to speak with you that we may come to some form of understanding. Might you be gracious enough to allow me into your home?”

Tardwel-Ambuk nodded in concession “You may pass. Lord of Shadows, that’s a term that I haven’t heard in many a year, from the last fool who tried to flatter me. He’s dead now. Mordak, that name sounds familiar. Are you the Emperor Consort himself?”

Mordak laughed as he strode up to Tardwel-Ambuk. “Emperor Consort. Nobody’s ever actually called me that to my face before. I kinda like it, it has a nice cadence to it.”

“So, I assume that you have come to kill me like the rest of them? The diplomacy is just a pretense, correct?” queried Tardwel-Ambuk.

Mordak blinked. “Um…no? I mean, if necessary I will fight you, but that’s more of a last resort. You see, unless I’ve missed my guess, you are descended from the Storm Dragons, the largest and most physically powerful of the Greater Dragons, as well as being descended from the Shadow Dragons, the fastest and most magically powerful of the Greater Dragons. Interbreeding between multiple types of dragons is fairly rare and even rarer to result in offspring, which means that, while you may not be quite as physically powerful as a full blooded Storm Dragon, nor quite so magically powerful as a full blooded Shadow Dragon, it would still made you quite an imposing ally to have.”

Tardwel-Ambuk snorted and nodded contemplatively. “Yes, yes this is all information of which I am aware. Well, I was unaware that you knew that I hailed from the Storm Dragons, but beyond that you haven’t revealed any new information to me. But even if you had given me new information, all that you have stated is why you need me, you have not said anything as to why I might need you. Why should I not kill you where you stand?”

“Well, there are several reasons that come to mind” responded Mordak evenly. “The first is obviously that neither of us are actually sure that you can kill me in a fair fight, otherwise I doubt that you ever would have let me past the entrance.” Tardwel-Ambuk nodded in agreement. “So if we were to fight, at least one of us would be killed and the other would likely be left maimed or crippled in some terrible way” continued Mordak. “Therefore, because I doubt that there is anything to actually be gained by us fighting, I propose that we try the path of diplomacy. You don’t care about my wellbeing or that of my people, and I don’t care about your wellbeing. Now that we have the pleasantries out of the way and can do away with any pretense, what do you want so that we can get along together?”

“Fascinating” stated Tardwel-Ambuk, staring at Mordak. “I must admit, I have never had anyone admit at the beginning of a diplomatic negotiation that both sides hate each other. Interesting tactic, let’s see how it pays off for you.”

Mordak rolled his eyes. “Almost every group that meets diplomatically hates each other, I’m just willing to be upfront about it so everyone is on the same page and we can come to a better estimation of how much every party wants for peace. My bluntness and honesty is on a case by case basis, but it seems that you already knew that we each don’t care about the other’s wellbeing, and I sincerely doubt that you care one whit for flattery, so we could save a significant amount of time in this negotiation by not pretending.”

“A fair point” responded Tardwel-Ambuk, nodding. “Counterpoint, diplomacy is boring, and so are you. Goodbye.” With that, he swiped at Mordak with incredible speed.

Mordak, being unencumbered by heavy armor, and also using magic to enhance his physical abilities, was able to duck under the strike fairly easily. Not only did the strike fail to connect, but Tardwel-Ambuk also got injured for his trouble. While dodging the strike, Mordak drew his blade and struck at the paw...foot...hand thing? Whatever anatomy part was being used to strike at him is what he struck, using the momentum of Tardwel-Ambuk’s blow to power his own, cutting all the way to the bone. While this didn’t particularly surprise Mordak, it did surprise Tardwel-Ambuk, as the blow hadn’t negated his protective aura, it just sort of ignored it, and the scales weren’t cracked so much as they were cut through cleanly. Both these things were just about unprecedented, but Tardwel-Ambuk was no quitter. He leapt back, putting some distance between himself and Mordak, then he slammed his left forepaw, which was the uninjured one, onto the ground, pumping magic into the ground, soaking the soft dirt floor around Mordak, as Mordak stuck his sword, blade first, into the ground to stabilize himself. Once Tardwel-Ambuk presumed that the ground was wet enough for Mordak to have sunk into it to roughly his knees, then Tardwel-Ambuk opened his mouth and let out a frigid blast of air, freezing the ground solid.

Tardwel-Ambuk stalked forward on three legs, chuckling to himself, fully intending to finish off Mordak, only to find Mordak standing on a dry patch of ground surrounded by ice, easily drawing his blade from the ground. Tardwel-Ambuk froze and took a hesitant step back.

“Do you have all of that out of your system?” asked Mordak calmly.

“How...did...you…?” asked Tardwel-Ambuk quizzically.

“Teletian Steel. Works as a magical conduit for the wielder while being able to ground out harmful magic directed at him. It also makes a better sword than most alloys that the elves, or even the dwarves can make” responded Mordak.

“I’m familiar with all of the properties of Teletian Steel” stated Tardwel-Ambuk somewhat impatiently. “ALL of the properties, including the fact that it only exists in theory, due to the three alloy issue.”

“I take it that you’re referring to the fact that the formula calls for the creation of several things, including three alloys that don’t really have a melting point?” verified Mordak.

“Don’t really have a melting point? That’s an understatement” chuckled Tardwel-Ambuk. “I tried everything, including stealing Promethean Fire, which burns at twice the temperature of the sun, and it didn’t even soften any of the alloys. What did you do to melt them?”

“Well…” hesitated Mordak. “I was young and stupid at the time. If I fully comprehended the risks and everything involved I never would have tried such a rash thing.” Tardwel-Ambuk nodded and gestured for him to move it along. “So, I used what I assumed was the path of least resistance, and summoned a portion of the Purple Heart of the Final Flame.”

Tardwel-Ambuk looked at Mordak in awe. “You’re telling me that you summoned an apocalyptic device, the flame foretold to devour everything at the end of all, and decided to use it as a forge flame?” Mordak nodded sheepishly and Tardwel-Ambuk laughed. “I was wrong about you, boy, I guess you aren’t as boring as you seem! I guess I can listen to what you have to say. What are you offering?”

“First and foremost, I’m offering you amnesty.”

“How very gracious of you” replied Tardwel-Ambuk sarcastically. Then, after a second of though he added “Why? It can’t just be that I’m useful to you.”

Mordak snorted. “You obviously don’t know much about politics, so long as you’re useful to a politician, you can get away with most anything. But you’re right. What you did, while morally repugnant, is in line with the way that most dragons that don’t spend much time around people would act, and I’m hesitant to punish a dragon for acting like a dragon. Particularly if they’re useful to me.”

“Fair enough. So you’re just hoping that I can learn to not eat people if I’m socialized properly in the future?”

“That’s the long and short of it. Now, if you’re willing to move to the land of Teth, they’ve been having some issues with raiders that I believe a dragon would help with.”

Tardwel-Ambuk nodded. “Yes, I would be able to protect any land that I was put near, and I suppose I would be able to relocate to the land of Teth, but what is in it for me?”

“Ah, that’s the best part!” said Mordak excitedly. “If you go to the land of Teth, you wouldn’t need to eschew eating people entirely. They would be willing to offer up prisoners that are up for capital punishment, as well as likely being able to get a group of volunteers to sacrifice themselves to you every few months. They would also make an offering of livestock and alcohol, and then gold or artwork if you would like it. The specifics can be ironed out with the leaders there if you agree.”

Tardwel-Ambuk took a second to think about it. “All I’d need to do is protect the people in the land of Teth and prevent myself from eating the ones who aren’t specifically offered up to me? I think I can work with that.”

And thus ends the tale of how the land of Teth gained its newest protector. While this is certainly not the last tale of Tardwel-Ambuk’s life, and not even remotely the last we hear of Mordak, none of those stories are a part of this one. And therefore, here is where I shall leave you today.