Adamantium Hunt, Part 2 (Cinnis Sarva, Janus, Smith, Avroc Strongman, Tanya Blackstone, The Great Chef, Abbess Lumina)
Scattered pubs and taverns throughout the remnants of the world house bulletin boards, where adventurers can find word of newly emerged monsters, demons and dungeons. Somewhere among them, a worthy dragon hunter. Reaching up, Cinnis pins another wanted poster to the board. The Adamantoise. A lesser kin, a wyrm, a dragon turtle, barely worthy of sharing a classification family with true dragons such as herself. But perfect for testing and training her next special someone. Smiling to herself, the woman leaves as quickly as she came. Soon, they will be flocking to the dungeon the turtle has made its den, and Cinnis wants to be there to watch.
However, it's always easier for an individual to move quickly, and a mere horse-drawn carriage could never compare to even the slowest of dragons. Cinnis finds herself at the dungeon under the cover of night. There were signs of civilization; pillars of hewn stone, large gateways without the doors, and the sort. The monsters within let her pass without any issue, each feeling her blood and fearing it. The depths were simply a set of tunnels, with shining deposits of ore dotting the walls, floor, and ceiling. Perhaps it was an old mineshaft of some kind?
"I might as well peek behind the curtain. Get a feel for the show I'm going to watch."
Yet what she sees is nothing short of disappointing. With her experience, the pieces fall in place quickly enough. The Adamantoise was with a nest of eggs, and it's mate nowhere in sight. The signs of a struggle were telling. Adventurers must have killed the female while it was weak from childbirth, only to be met with the wrath of the male which then spilled out into the nearby region. Classic behavior of the lowly. On both parts.
Regardless, this wouldn't do! Evil should simply be evil! Stories where the villain is a tragic figure were simply second rate. Since the script was shoddy... she need only fix it!
Cinnis confidently walks forward, treating her lesser kin as no more than thin air, evoking agitation from the Adamantoise. The dread it feels from this invader is visceral, as if its own blood locked its body in place. Even as it growls, it can't help but back up in fear. Only when she reaches for its eggs does it muster its courage, belching crimson flames out at her!
Yet it is in vain. She doesn't even flinch or shy away, the flames washing over her like rain. She just calmly gazes back, as if wondering who gave this trash the courage to defy her. Her expression turns dark. The metal tortoise panics as she approaches it, only to be sent flying by a kick. When it re-orients itself, her hand latches onto its head, fingers digging into the metal and pressing it into its skull.
She brings its head down to meet her gaze. In a way the scene was comical. The tortoise was many times her size, yet it trembled at her grasp.
Her words, however, weren't comical at all.
"Worm. Perhaps you're too stupid to understand the words of mortals, but don't pretend you don't understand the words of a true dragon. Some mortals will be coming here for your head. Put on a good performance. Fail and I'll smash those eggs against the nearest mountainside."
She smiles darkly.
"Don't you worry. Dragons won't bother with lies. Do your job and I'll make sure the eggs hatch. Show some guts and die with honor. Show them the valor and tyranny of a dragon."
Eggs in hand, she left the depths of the dungeon to find a good place to watch, leaving the Adamantoise to its despair. Its grieving howl before the scattered nest acted as music to her ears, the perfect theme music to accompany the arrival of a hero.
Some half a day latter, a carriage meandered over at last. A group of adventurers here to slay the wicked wyrm. From besides the drive seat was a doll-like mage, who seemed to be acting as a guide. Cinnis could practically feel her magic, even from a distance. It wouldn't be surprising if the mage knew someone was watching her either. Yet it was no matter- her mother may disdain magic, but Cinnis made no distinction. Valor was valor, no matter the form it came in. She wasn't particularly trying to hide either.
The rest of the group was just as colorful and full of personality. The girl driving the carriage seemed rough, like an uncut gem made of battle-lust. The girl with the giant pan seemed absent minded, and yet her sense of purpose as a chef was so clear and pure. The smith had laid eyes upon the dungeon and seemed to shine with anticipation, as if he could feel the presence of rare and precious ores inside from instinct alone. The cyclops seemed simple-minded enough, but his gait betrayed dedication and the unwavering will of a warrior. The only one she wasn't sure what to make of was the human woman in the habit. There was a sort of... distance between her and the others. Perhaps she wasn't here for the hunt? Cinnis never could understand the religious sorts. Faith was something to be put in ones own strength and none other.
Regardless, they were all clearly a cut above. Elites ill-suited to this desolate era. It seemed the show would be an excellent one... Although she couldn't help but worry that the tortoise might not be up to the task. Even so she watches intently, a subtle blush coming to her face as she waits in anticipation.