Wanted: Treasure and Fame

The Founding of The White Dragons

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998 YK Wir, 14th of Therendor (Wednesday, March 14)

The return back to Skyrim was uneventful. Considering what happened earlier that day, technically earlier that day, anyways uneventful was a nice change, even for us. We returned to Mr. Gregor’s farm early that evening. He was able to quickly see, based on the evidence we brought back, just how much of a “wolf problem” he really had. He eagerly paid us the agreed price for theKobolds and was in aw at the other prize we had brought back; the head of that white dragon. He was fearful and overwhelmed at the sheer size of the head, even after the rest of him had been destroyed. He thanked us, once he had his voice, for the opportunity to see such a wonderment.

In honor of our first success, and just the child-like amazement on his face, we offered him a chance to stroke the fearsome creature’s nose. In trepidation, he gingerly felt the power of the dragon’s scales. He told us, “My friends won’t believe this. Geez, I can’t even believe I’m seeing a dragon at all. And this close?” He thanked us for something so rare that he can always remember, even if no one else would know. With some quick thinking, we immediately offered him one of the many scales of the dragon’s. He held it cautiously between his fingers, small enough to hide between them. He thanked us with a smile only a child could truly muster. We then took our leave to the Drunken Phoenix, at the suggestion of Mr. Gregor to let the Lord of the town know what has become of his mine.

The town was quiet as we entered. As we neared town square, we could already hear the news from the Lord being relayed by his scribe; a man who looked like he had been eating ink, with a feather in his cap and colorful shirt. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was there because he was in trouble from his noble father. What I could gather as we entered the bustling and overflowing center was that the wall had been completed, however taxes would have to increase again to train the new city watch. People immediately started to grumble at the increase, no longer paying real mind to the scribe as he went down the long scroll. Drakar and I took the time to explain to Ni’Tarra what taxes were, and what they were for. The moment she came to understand its concept, she enthusiastically raised her hand as the scribe continued.

Moments went by as Ni’Tarra tried to get his attention. When the scribe had finished the list of reasons he had been provided for the increase, a small attempt to persuade the townspeople that it was “money well spent”, he looked up. In his confusion, he asked Ni’Tarra what she would like to ask. Her speech was beautiful and precise, explaining to the good townspeople that, while paying extra coins for training the city watch was undesirable, it was necessary. The Slayers of White Dragons, as she called us, had just taken down a white dragon not more than a few hours away from their homes. If they were to be be safe beyond the help of outsiders like us, they would need to make sure that their coin is spent on safety. If they needed our help, however, they could find us at the Drunken Phoenix. It was a speech that not only helped the scribe look good, but also put our names on everyone’s lips.

The crowd was still. A few children murmured in excitement, husbands stood before their wives as shields, mothers attempted to hide their children. Amongst them, they saw the head of the creature, a few feet off the ground. As Ni’Tarra pointed to the thing, there was no doubt left for them. The scribe attempted to gain control, clearing his throat a few times before heads could move again. The people were not sure what to do, and stood in quiet shock as the scribe continued to prattle on. Ni’Tarra grinned at herself as we discussed what to do next. The Lord’s scribe knew where to find us, so we did not need to hunt him down.

We decided to find a taxidermist to make that dragon’s head a more permanent fixture for us, if we were going to be the Slayers of White Dragons. Ni’Tarra, Kildrak and Drakar started the search up as Rife & I returned to the Drunken Phoenix. When they returned, we decided to eat and enjoy each other’s company as the sun set.

During dinner we started to discuss things about the guild. Simple things like where would we hang the dragon’s head, how do we decide jobs..where did we store all the loot? Ben was kind enough to pipe in that we couldn’t keep using his closet forever. It was decided then, at the counter of the Drunken Phoenix, that we would become our own guild. I offered up the suggestion that we not be named the Slayers of White Dragons, since our clientel may only request us to slay dragons, which is not necessarily in high demand, or safe! Although the idea of having different colored dragon heads lining an entrance hall would be extravagant, it also seemed a bit extreme. As our first guild decision, we came up with the name The White Dragons, since it honored our first truly heroic conflict, as well as the kind of strength and determination we shared. Also, because it has a wicked ring to it!

Just as we came to the consensus, we noticed the scribe entering the bar. As he locked eyes onto our section of the bar, he looked even more cert than previously, and walked straight over to us.

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