Misplaced [Open]

[Chinchilla]

The world was spinning.

Paarthurnax ached. Not an unfamiliar feeling for the ancient dragon, who had been in his share of battles in his time. His wings throbbed with pain, and instinct drove them to inspect them first as he woke. No fresh wounds littered his already damaged wing membrane, and he let out a sigh of relief at that. Assured that his wings were undamaged, he investigated his surroundings.

"Daar los ni strunmahi." He said as softly as a dragon could, sweeping his tail through the sand. Instead of the vast expanse of fog and snow that he had known as his home through the countless years, he found himself faced with sand and rock. The familiar, biting wind of his home had been replaced by an oppressive, dry heat that weighed on the old dragon.

He tried to figure out how he had gotten here. It was unlikely that a malicious Prince had spirited him away. The Daedric Princes had never shown interest in him before, and he doubted they would now. The desert itself didn't match any of the descrptions of the various realms of Oblivion he had heard of, as well. He dropped his muzzle to the sand, carefully inhaling to draw in scent and hopefully not sand. He didn't smell Daedra.

Or any of the familiar smells of Skyrim. Or of anything he knew, really. The smell of this place was completely alien to the dragon, and that unsettled him. Perhaps this was all a dream, and he was simply being paranoid. But his body ached in a way that he had never ached in a dream before. The dragon lifted his head, narrowing his eyes.

Perhaps it would be wise to treat this as reality, until he was sure what was going on. While it was entirely possible he was living out a dream, Paarthurnax thought it would be prudent to be cautious. Better paranoid then dead.

The dragon spread his wings and lifted into the air, turning on his wing tip and looking around the small area where he had landed. He could see an unfortunately Paarthurnax-shaped impression in the sand where he had fallen, but no sign of any settlements.

[Raine Lily]

A light crack sounded as he twisted his back, working out a few kinks that came from teaching weyrlings and the younger generations. He combed his fingers through his hair, glancing over at the blue lump curled up on a ledge in the weyrbowl. Today's lessons had gone well, no one back talked him and everyone did their job and part. Though of course, he didn't have a group ready to learn how to between yet either. It wouldn't be too long before the oldest group would be learning though, and every part of him dreaded the experience. With a quick shake of his head, he scattered those thoughts and worries and crossed over so that he was beneath the ledge his dragon was sitting on. "Up for a flight, Moirath?" he asked, looking up at her.

A blue head peeked over the edge of the ledge and stared down at him with one giant, whirling eye. I always want to go for a flight, B'nal.

That simple statement had the weyrlingmaster grinned like a fool and signaling her to go to their weyr. He practically ran there in order to grab his riding straps and his leathers. After all if they decided to between at any moment he didn't want to freeze. What sort of example would that set to the younger dragons and their riders? Not one that he wanted to be the blame for, that's for certain.

It took only a moment - maybe a couple - to put the straps on Moirath and slip into his leathers before he pulled himself up onto her back and strapped himself in. "Ready?" he asked.

Always, came the response before they were up and airborne with a powerful down stroke. He enjoyed the air as it rushed past them, and they headed out towards the Igen desert for the simply fun of it. What they saw when they got there, however, was entirely a different story.

"Is that a dragon?" B'nal mused aloud, looked at the flying, circling being in the sky ahead of them. "It only has two legs."

It is no dragon that I am used too, Moirath responded, puzzlement clear in her tone. But I do believe that it is a dragon.

"Bring us closer, Moirath. I want to see if he'll speak to us," he said, peering at the creature. His command was obeyed without a second though from Moirath, and they got closer to the being - that did indeed look very much like a dragon - and he opted just to shout out to it. "Hello!"

Yes, because shouting hello at a riderless dragon with two legs was really the best option. He liked teaching people, but sometimes he may not be the best bubbly pie in the batch.

[Chinchilla]

Paarthurnax felt disoriented and sick, his head spinning as he tried to figure out just which direction he should go in. He felt cut off, as if he was missing a part of himself. However, he had no time to ponder what exactly had been lost in the confusion. Something was approaching on wings that dwarfed his own, and Paarthurnax turned to face the approaching creatures. He expected to see another of his kind from the sound of the wing beats, but what he saw made him falter.

Is that a dragon? Paarthurnax pulled short, eyes focused on Moirath. No dragon that Paarthurnax had ever seen before, with her smooth blue hide and four legs. Not like himself, a creation in the form of his Father and Brother before him. "Drem yol lok." He called to the mysterious creature, pulling up short in his slow circling. "Greetings." It was unlikely that such an animal knew his tongue. He wasn't even sure she could speak.

The man on her back most certainly could. Paarthurnax peered at him, perplexed by the straps holding him in place. There was nothing to suggest he was controlling the blue creature, as the men of skyrim controlled their horses. Perhaps she was sapient and merely allowing him to ride upon her back. The dragon remained quiet for a moment longer, examining Moirath and her rider with an intense, scholarly interest. This was something new. Paarthurnax did not often encounter new things.

"Krosis." He spoke, at last. "Greetings, mortal. I am Paarthurnax." He was an intruder in their lands, and so he kept his tone as polite as he could manage. It was hard. "I appear to be lost. Do you by chance know the way to keizaal, Skyrim?"

Just asking for directions. Nothing odd here, folks.

[Raine Lily]

Ah, so he could speak. That made B'nal feel more comfortable almost immediately, even if the first words he had heard were not his own native language. However he did hear the switch to Pernese, so that was comforting. "Hello Paarthurnax, it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance," he said, glad that he had had harper training when he was younger in order to speak eloquently. Mostly thanks to his older sister... but anyway. "I am B'nal, rider of Moirath here," he said, patting her neck affectionately while she hovered in the sky for him.

Paarthurnax is a weird name for a dragon, Moirath remarked silently, staring at the two legged dragon.

"It is, but he is new, and we should offer him all the hospitality of Igen Weyr," B'nal reminded her, smiling at the dragon before them politely. "I'm afraid I don't know where Skyrim is, but I can at least clear up where you are. We're currently over the Igen desert, close to Igen Weyr."

Maybe we could look at one of those maps you're always talking to the weyrlings about? Maybe one of them has this Skyrim there. Is it a weyr? I don't think it is, but it sounds like it could be a weyr.[/i]

"I don't know, Moirath. Ah... can dragons read maps? Paarthurnax... is Skyrim a Weyr?" he questioned, looking over the dragon. Maybe it was a weyr with different dragon types than he had seen before. It wouldn't surprise him too much, as his own Moirath was a different breed than the norm from how Pern used to be if the stories were to be believed. But of course, he wouldn't trade the blue for the world. And she knew that.