It had simply been too long since the last trade with Chokma...
A great massive beast held onto the side of the airship as it was going through its docking procedures, anxious to see the ground through the parting clouds. His mane flew wildly behind him like seaweed holding its ground to a jet of water. The Dragonkin traders above barked and ordered among themselves to tend the engines and thrusters, and mind the sails. The azure dragon held himself at the side of the bow near a thruster opening as the whirring filled his ears. Soon enough below, Chokma came into view.
The fresh spices and hunting gadgets from within the workshops inside the ship filled the Dragonkin's nostrils, a fresh reminder of how much further his people had advanced since a century ago. He was surely proud of them, proud of himself that he was the catalyst of the solution. And after long years of rebuilding and expansion, he finally would have a much prolonged stay at his other favorite place in the world.
With a chuckle emerging from his jagged maw, Finir jumped off the side of the ship, spreading this massive wings for wind resistance, like a parachute. Eventually, when he neared the ground, the Dragonkin Elite slammed his massive body to the docking surface, startling the traders that were rummaging among themselves and bartering for the best prices for goods.
Not minding his sudden landing, the airship he dropped from was a little ways back at the end of the dock. Finir proceeded to make his way from the air docks and down through the trading facility. Since he was too big for elevators, he merely jumped off the sides of the railing from above and hovered himself toward the ground.
He knew his mission objective, but it would take some time for it to grow into fruition. But first, he wanted to visit a certain lavish dragon - Boris. He wondered especially how his former provider was holding up after all these years. Finir, however, didn't expect Boris to have missed him; in fact, he only saw him not too long ago on his last trading rounds, but remained out of Boris' line of sight.
Finir, landed in his distant cousin's main courtyard in front of his manor. There was a fountain indifferently spraying its innards out into the bowl around it, overflowing to the much bigger pool below. Finir turned to it and took one giant claw to the pristine waters, cupping in his palm to drink. After a ravenous slurp and a wipe from his maw, the azure dragon trudged his way up the white steps to the equally white porch, where a maid, sitting in one of the seats, asked of his business.
"Here to see an old friend, your master, I presume," Finir said with a nod.
"And you are who?" The maid's gaze seemed to have already labeled him something negative. Something like 'ruffian,' though he was clearly not: he sported a white scarf neatly at the base of his neck, with gold trimmed plating over both his breasts. He once again wore the traditional one-flapped cloth piece over his front, though this time he wore white wrapping at his midsection that extended down to his mid thighs. Once again, he sported the arm and leg guards, elaborately decorated with trimming. What may have threw her off were his arm and leg guards were now fastened and held down by chains. It didn't help that he still sported his spiked mane, much longer than it was before, extending down past the base of his tail.
"I am Finir. Boris will recognize me when he sees me. If you'll excuse me..." The azure dragon bowed to the made, looking straight into her eyes with his glistening infernos, then turned to ring the doorbell of the lavish dragon's estate...
Pinkie Pool's archnemesis: Oatmeal.
Last edited by Marzai; 01-25-2011 at 06:18 PM.