Dragon days of August

[dragongrrl]

🧙 WHO: Barbara and anyone who wants to do things with Barbara!
⚔️️ WHAT: Open log for August, incl. animal culling and Don't Treep quests
🕒 WHEN: August, various times in the month
🗺️ WHERE: Avalon
⚠️ WARNINGS: Animal violence


a. Let's see how far dragon whispering extends 🛡

[The zombies are gone, and the damage they left remains. Not wanting to leave a job half-done, Barbara is down at the farm. She might have a shovel, burying the remains of the undead in safe spots, nodding to you to pick up one yourself. Or she's shouldering new wood along to fix the fenceposts. Or she's flagging you down to help her drag a wooden trough to a new pen. Rather than her usual armor and chainmail, today she's in hardwearing work clothes.

You might also find her helping with the animals. Barbara isn't an animal mage, but she knows how to be quiet and patient, and might tell you to stand ready at the pen gate while she tries to entice a horse or a sheep back towards it.]

b. Invasive species 🗡

[Barbara's noticed how crowded the woods are. More than once she's woken up to see something that isn't her moogle familiar looking back at her. So it's no surprise that something else has decided that all this bounty represents a free lunch.

Not wanting a scorpion-tailed crab as a neighbor, she's ony too eager to help get rid of the Carcinuses]

Carcninus dangerous. Prepared?

c. But how does not a dragon work

[So. Horses.

Barbara's been avoiding this. But it also takes a long time to walk everywhere she wants to go. And who knows, she might be able to fight from horseback. So it's about time she learned how to ride properly.

Being Barbara, she's going to try it on her own before she actually talks to the man about officially getting lessons. If she can deal with dragons, she can deal with something that doesn't even have sharp teeth, right?]

Good horse. Here.

[She knows that they like apples, apparently. So she's got a bag full of them by her feet, approaching a likely-looking mare.]

d. Wildcard!

[None of these suit your fancy? Hit me up by PM or at compassinks and we can work something out!]

Comments

[patchricide]

[It's such a simple yet effective philosophy. It's enough to bring a smile back to Allura's face, and even a hint of amused laughter into her voice.]

That's true, isn't it? We all start as beginners. There's nothing to be done about it but to train... or practice, I should say, until you get better.

[She continues to haul more of the dirt, slowly but steadily, as she returns to Barbara's question...]

No, I really haven't used one before. I've fought with some polearms that bore some similarities, but only in combat. Usually, if my family needed a hole in the ground, we would have someone else to dig it on our behalf — and far more advanced tools to make the work quicker.

[dragongrrl]

[A corner of Barbara's mouth quirks up when Allura corrects herself on the use of the word train.

Ah, but her further words seem to explain it... Allura may have martial training, but she isn't a foot soldier. Barbara returns to her own shoveling--which is pretty able--as she speaks again.]

Allura, knight? Nobility?

[patchricide]

[Allura looks mildly surprised at the question. Did she never...? She pauses in her shoveling efforts, clutching the tool protectively close to her body.]

... ah, that's right. I suppose we didn't exchange more than names before, did we? I'm actually royalty, the crown princess of Altea.

Or... I was, at least. It doesn't matter quite as much as my Paladin title any more.

[dragongrrl]

[Oh, yes--Barbara's expression is one of immediate understanding. That makes complete sense--someone with the skills of a warrior and none of a laborer would have to be royalty.

The was, though. That's... interesting.]

Why Allura was princess?

[She knows, as she's asking, that the answer is probably an unhappy one, but it doesn't stop her from asking anyway.]

[patchricide]

I still carry the title and the crown, but... my kingdom, our world, all the people... they're now gone. And not merely outside of Avalon, but in any timeline that I would care to return to...

A crown without any of the responsibilities that come with it is nothing more than a piece of expensive jewelry.

[For the moment, the chip on her shoulder can clearly be seen. But she seems to realize this, and breathes in deep to firm up her resolve — and returns to the digging with renewed focus.]

But that's only the end of the story if I let it be, isn't it? Avalon itself could be my second chance at having a home.

[dragongrrl]

[Barbara's eyes go wide. She's not sure what Allura means about any timeline I would care to return to, only that if Allura is saying that, she must have somehow tried.

She rests her hands on the shovel for a moment, wondering how to respond, even to the hopeful note that Allura added with such stubbornness.]

Dragoons of Deist--all gone. All killed. Except Barbara, last Dragoon.

Barbara alive, Dragoons alive. Allura alive--Altea alive.

what the heck I distinctly remember writing a reply to this

[patchricide]

[Oh, it's a story. Not even an attempt, but a fluke that gave her a glimpse into what could have been. A timeline where the Altean race thrived — but, as if their survival had been the product of a horrible bargain, something far more more essential had been lost. Their dreams had grown corrupted, and their actions followed suit.]

[Naturally, Barbara's words have no trouble hitting home. In fact, it's a sentiment that she's expressed herself when her teammates tried to console her over the fate of her world.]

Yes... yes, you are right. I may no longer be able to lead my people, but I am still their legacy. And that's a far greater responsibility than I would have ever had to bear before.

not to worry! <3

[dragongrrl]

[Barbara nods, understanding. She has often wondered herself what she should do about being the last dragoon--if she should seek out other humans to train, to revive the warriors in that way. Now that the Warriors of Light have been blessed, the weight is a little less, but she knows that they aren't the same as her. They aren't dedicated to the life of it the way her father was.

But Allura is something else--to be Altean, Barbara presumes, is to be from Altea, to look and speak like Allura, to have the history she has, to have breathed the air she breathed on her home planet. And if Allura is mortal... when she passes, whether it is through battle or through age, then all of Altea will be lost with her.]

Big, big responsibility. [...] Barbara not know Allura long. But Allura strong, courageous in battle. Worthy successor.

[patchricide]

[Barbara has grasped the gist of it. There's a few asterisks trailing at the end, enough to conclude that the legacy of Altea might still survive. But the kingdom has fallen and the era of Altea itself has ended. Their future lies in the hands of other races, especially in those of humans.]

[So, when she hears Barbara call her worthy? It hits harder than Allura would have ever guessed, cutting through doubts that she tried to never acknowledge were clouding her heart.]

... thank you. I try to be. After all, I wouldn't be nearly so strong if it weren't for everything I was taught. [A pause, and then a more direct acknowledgement:] ... for everything my father taught me.

If I'm worthy, then it's proof enough that his legacy, too, is worthy.