Starting Date and Time: 22nd day of Vermillio, 300 DM

Starting Location: Cave to the south of Pyresia.

CS URL: Genrit’khaath

Genrit'khaath is awake to see the sunrise. Even in his exhaustion from the day prior he was unable to get any more than a few hours sleep. Being freed from ice after so long is not without its drawbacks. The soreness in his muscles and a growing headache prevent him from doing much more than watch the sun peak over the horizon. His breathing is slow, trying not to strain himself any more than he needs to right now. His morning will need to be calm, for he knows that when the day has fully begun he has plenty of work to do. The territory he owns is ambiguous at best after all this time, so it's important that he reestablishes his borders. This will require him to search through the area, drive away any potential competition which he assumes there is now plenty of, and become reacquainted with the area.

That and he's hungry. Really hungry. For both flesh and metal.

After spending a few hours relaxing and absorbing the warmth of the sun, it's time to get started. A shudder goes through his body as he pulls himself onto his feet. He's still sore, but at least the headache is starting to die down. Genrit'khaath stretches his wings out, flexing them a few times in preparation for flight. They feel stronger than they did yesterday so he should be able to at least move from place to place with breaks in between. After taking a moment to swivel his head to establish where he is going, his wings beat powerfully, propelling him off of the ground. The force of the wind pushes and shakes the nearby rocks while he gains altitude.

Rising above, he can recognize some of the immediate landmarks: large hills and structures of rock that have withstood the test of time. The actual terrain, however... Genrit huffs quietly for a few moments, gathering himself after the effort. Once he has gained enough height he eases up the strain on his sore body by gliding, relying on the warm air to guide him. The feeling of flight is incredible. His large body relaxes as he swiftly explores, his wings flapping every so often. He sees the forest to the South, but a feeling of unease passes through his body. He does not remember the area being quite so large. He should expect this though. On the bright side, the creatures in the forest always did taste better and had much more meat, and a lot of dragons wouldn't bother competing over such territory on account of the difficulty to navigate such packed areas on the ground. But every now and then a persistent dragon could catch something out in a field.

Genrit doesn't even notice some of the drool coming from his maw as he changes direction, going to investigate the forest. He lands just on the outskirts to give himself a break, laying down and breathing slowly the way he did in the morning. The last thing he wants it to exhaust himself in mid air and come crashing down into the trees. Especially not with his scales being so weak, even after digging through his cave and scavenging what little metal was left.

Gathering himself, he launches again. His shadow coats the trees beneath him as he flies over, his white eyes surveying the land below him. He spends a little over an hour searching, looking out for any rivers, lakes, or other places where he may be able to consistently find food. He manages to locate such a lake and turns his body to smoothly approach it. Just in time too, he's overdue for another landing. When he's close enough to see it properly he comes to a stop, flapping his wings to hold him in place. He watches it intently, searching for any movement. Eventually he spots something.

Bears. Both food and competition in this case. They leave the treeline as a group, all walking to drink from the lake. A whole family by the looks of it. His lips curl upwards, revealing his rows of sharp teeth as he waits for them to all reach the water. The pain in his body goes to the back of his mind as he becomes focused on the task at hand. When it's time he surges upwards once with his wings and then tilts his body down, going into a dive towards the group, claws extended. They don't see or hear him coming before it's too late. The impact of his claws slicing through two of the adults causes their bodies to be torn in two as he swoops. His wings then flap once more, allowing him to twist his body and do another, closer swoop. This time when he approaches the now panicking wild animals he lets out a powerful roar before clamping his mouth down on the furthest fleeing one. He tosses it at a nearby tree, killing it. The remaining two don't get much further, with Genrit simply extending his huge arms and grinding them both into the ground with his claws.

His head lifts up to the sky and he lets out a triumphant roar. Even though the bears were nothing more than harmless animals to a dragon his size, the rush of violence is welcome granted how weak he has felt since his freedom. He wastes no time bringing their mutilated bodies together and beginning to feast, his huge maw widening and crunching down on the pile of flesh and bone. The heat coming from the inside of his mouth alone is enough to begin burning away at their fur and innards. His actions are savage, razor sharp claws gripping the bears as he tears off chucks of their bodies, hungrily swallowing them down his gullet. The nearby water becomes dirtied with red as the creatures are drained and torn apart. By the time he's done, nothing remains of the bears apart from a few shreds of fur and a huge patch of crimson sinking into the earth. Genrit's face is covered and dripping with blood, as are his front claws. He breathes heavily through his nose, the satisfaction of having eaten sinking through his body. His head tilts and he shifts to the side, looking down into a clearer part of the lake. He sees his bloodied face staring back at him, soon also being obscured by the blood dripping down from his snout and into the water.

How familiar this is.

Genrit settles down next to the patch of gore. He admires his work and relaxes, letting the warm sun work its magic against his pure white scales. He doesn't bother washing the blood off, knowing that it's best to leave it on for now. The stark contrast between it and his scales makes him look considerably more intimidating. An organic war paint, if you will.

Plenty of time passes but he doesn't mind, resting is just what he needs now. He'll probably just return to his cave soon and try to melt what remains of the ice. On the bright side, he's able to drink it. It's completely pure, too. Once he's done that he'll try and get some proper sleep and rest now that he has some food in his stomach. His eyes shut and he stretches his claws out, digging them into the earth as he tends to his sore muscles.

This moment reminds him of his time spent owning this territory. At least, the more peaceful time when he first established it. Lazy days of flying in the heat, hunting, practicing his illusions, admiring the shine of his scales, and sleeping while surrounded by his hoard. A gentle sigh passes through his bloodied lips and he shuts his eyes, settling down.

The sickle-winged shadow of a dragon passing overhead had gone un-challenged, but not un-noticed. Concealed by the depths of the lake, something lurked beneath the reflective surface, biding her time until the stranger was past, as so many others had simply flown by. Though it seemed that would not be the case this time.

Blood in the water.

She could taste even those few drops, diluted and dispersed as they were by the time the invisible currents of the lake brought them to her waiting jaws. The interloper, a thief as well as a trespasser, had killed her prey on the shores of her lake!

The massive creature stirred again, dredging up the dark tendrils of lake-weed and blooming clouds of mud under wicked talons as she shoved off the bottom and moved towards the shore. The bright sunlit sky overhead shimmered on the surface of the water, concealing her every move through the cool lake.

It wasn't hard to find the snoozing drake, so brilliantly he gleamed there at the edge of the water against a backdrop of dark river stones and verdant foliage. A wavering white slab until the lake-dweller's eyes broke the surface, third eyelids sliding back just as her narrow nostrils appeared. Like a great alligator, her progress towards him was no more notable than the listless drifting of a log, the undulations of her long tail barely rippling the water to move her closer.

She caught the scent of gore and blood and male dragon, her nostrils flaring wide before clamping shut with distaste. He'll be slow on an empty stomach.

The serenity of the soporific scene shattered in an instant. The dark smudge of eyes and snout floating harmlessly on top of the water erupted in a geyser of white-water, the deluge spraying in all directions as a scaled monster came charging out of the lake, massive fanged jaws agape with a challenging snarl, wings outstretched, tail lashing with violent intent. The dragoness brayed with righteous indignation as she pounded up the rocky beach, preceded by the forbidding mucky scent of the watery depths from whence she emerged. The terrible sound echoed starkly against the trees and back across the lake, small animals panicking and birds lifting from the canopy in fright.

It would be difficult to tell exactly what colour the dragoness was with all the algae clinging to her scales, though as the greenish film cracked under unfamiliar strain it would turn out to be very nearly the same jade hue as the creature underneath.

Genrit's eyes snap open as the water near him erupts in motion. His claws dig into the earth as he hefts himself up, turning his head to the source. Another dragon, already on its way towards him. A sense of indignation of his own rises up from his chest and up through his throat. His body shudders in rage as his massive wings also outstretch. His bladed maw opens wide as he roars in return, shaking the ground beneath them. Smoke smolders between his teeth as he challenges her. In the back of his mind he registers that with all that water and algae, his fire may not be the best weapon to use against her.

But he was given these jaws and talons for a reason. His body fully turns to confront her and he lets out yet another primal roar. He feels his hot blood pound through his body as his heart quickens. This is a feeling he's experienced time and time again. He's glad that he managed to get his bloodlust up just before this, blood already hardening as it stains his scales. He completely outsizes the other dragon, but he's weakened and size alone doesn't help a dragon against another, more aggressive dragon. But he holds his ground, claws ready to lash out if the other dragon accepts his challenge. His body lowers, ready to pounce and tackle them down with his weight.

The impact of the attacking she-drake cut Genrit off mid-roar and their snarling echoed across the water. He was larger, but she was longer of neck and tail, overly lean, and quick as a snake. And she was furious. He lowered himself so bit at him. Her neck whipped forwards like a viper, needle-sharp teeth snatching a patch of white scales out of the pit of Genrit's out-stretched wings. And the move was simply a drive-by, pebbles showering him as her talons dug into the ground to change her direction and avoid what she assumed would be a torrential blast of flame.

"Go back to your volcano, interloper!" she hissed viciously in Draconic, her tone savage and imperious as she spat the white scale out onto the rocky beach. "This is my lake!" She was well-versed in fighting other dragons, and kept shifting her balance lightly from forequarters to haunches, strafing just out of reach of his shorter neck, brilliant green eyes searching for an opening to attack again.

A powerful claw strikes down as the other dragon charges him and bites his wing, only for it to dodge out of the way. The sight of her spitting his scales out prompts more smoke to pour out his maw. A deep growl echoes through his throat as he replies. "This is my land and it has been for quite some time." The other dragon reminds him a lot of the snakes he used to eat back when he was just a hatchling. Before his scales were strong and he was experienced with fighting, he had to rely on the weaknesses of the animals around him. He has never been able to speak to a serpent, but he assumes that they all suffer from the same overconfidence. Just because you think you can lash out doesn't mean you should. Genrit's eyes harden as his bitten wing twitches a little, both of them folding in as to not get in the way. "Find another lake far away from here before I contaminate this one with your corpse, worm."

His head tilts slightly as he glares at her, expecting another attack. It's a reflex game. Catch the head, clamp the mouth shut, twist it, step on the body, bite. In this case the body being the neck. He knows that he will most likely take some scratches with what he has planned, but it's nothing compared to having one's head mauled off. Genrit also needs to make a few sacrifices here and there if he's to get back on his feet. He doesn't notice, but some saliva drips out among the smoke. He may have become a bit too invested in the memories of one of his old food sources.

The female snorted contemptuously at Genrit's words, a throaty chuckle in the back of her throat. A thin line of pain down her back is the only wound the white dragon managed to score, a few of her scales dislodged and a glob of lake slime mucking up his taloned paw. Emerald green she was, under the disguise.

"How dare you insult my ear-frills with your weak lies, drake! I've been the Mistress of this lake for more than a century and I've never been assaulted by your noisome stench before. I think I would remember a dragon who looked like a bloated codfish!"

Noticing the flicker of fire at the corners of his mouth and the acrid smoke, the she-drake was wary. Her own weapon had yet to reveal itself to him, though a sickly sweet smell accompanied her words. His drooling, however, made him look slow-witted.

His snout turns up slightly at the codfish insult and replies simply, his deep voice full of the same level of contempt. "I have been away from this place for three hundred years, hatchling. But I have returned. I hope you enjoyed your time here but now you must leave." His mouth clamps shut for a moment, cutting off the smoke as he does so. He raises his body off the ground, opening himself up somewhat. But he's watching just as keenly as ever. He detects the smell but pays no mind to it just yet. "This is your last chance." His maw opens slightly again, allowing the flow of smoke to continue. He doesn't growl or put on any more of a show than he needs to. If this dragoness makes one more move out of line she is going to face a swift yet agonizing demise.

In the back of his mind he was hoping that this would somehow be the dragon that attacked him all those years ago. But it's foolish to expect to encounter them so soon. Especially living in the bottom of this lake. This dragon looks like she has spent far too much time underwater to be moving around the area at all. Not to mention... This lake hasn't always been here. Or at least, not to this scale. Regardless, a trespasser is a trespasser.

The green female snorted, feasting her eyes on a drake who barely looked to be in his second century, let along past his third. Obviously he wasn't just a liar, but a bad one at that. As he stood up, the turned her body to the side. It was a strange move, opening her flank and left wing for attack when most dragons tried to minimize their profile when facing off.

"Even if that were true, I'm afraid you have to show your face more often than that if you expect to keep your hunting grounds, dolt."

Suddenly, the dragoness arched her body to the side, her head whipping towards Genrit with a loud hiss, the black flesh of her mouth glistening wetly behind sharp teeth. Something viscous and sticky and warm splattered against him, missing his eyes, but only just. The sweet rotting-fruit smell intensified.

The reason for her strange posture was explained an instant later when the thin end of her long tail whip-cracked across Genrit's snout, breaking a tooth and bloodying his nose, though the strike didn't have quite the dizzying effect she had hoped for. She danced away towards the cover of the trees.

The spat goo hitting his face is enough to throw him off, causing him to take the strike in the face. He recoils and growls, but she has already started moving towards the trees. He glares in her direction but does nothing further, having other things in mind. His wings spread and beat powerfully, lifting him off of the ground. To her it looks like he's just planning on leaving. He quickly gets enough height to go over the tree tops. But instead of just flying away, he begins to glide low over the forest.

His throat rumbles as smoke starts to fume out of his mouth. A massive torrent of flame erupts out of his maw, the hot blood dripping from his nose turning molten before hitting the ground. The smell of what she spat on him is overwhelmed by the smoke coming from his mouth. He sets fire to the forest beneath him as he glides, the sheer scale of destruction caused by his swoop is enough to initiate a huge forest fire. His glide carries him away from her and by the time he needs to take a breath again, it's clear that her lake isn't going to be getting many visitors. He curves to the side and begins unleashing yet more flame on the forest, spreading the fire even further.

He much preferred when there was no forest here, anyway. He'd rather see all of this burn. He keeps an eye out for the other dragon as he wrecks her home, preparing to attack her if she confronts him. He isn't in the mood for talking anymore. Either she leaves or she feels his teeth rip her throat out.

The she-drake was almost disappointed that Genrit didn't come blundering after her into the woods where she, as a sleeker and partially camouflaged creature, would have the advantage. The thundering but fading wingbeats signaled that he had lifted into the sky, perhaps not the wisest move for a drake with a full belly, and the she-drake paused in the dappled shadows to watch the white male streak by. He quickly out-paced her and began belching flame down into the trees. The dragoness remained still for the moment, listening to the crackling roar of the fire-dragon's breath weapon and the hiss of the forest beginning to catch.

Un-opposed, Genrit was able to ignite several hundred feet of forest before he had no fire left, and indeed the dry underbrush and high pines began to smoke and crackle, a blue haze spilling outwards in all directions through the trees as a black plume belches up into the sky, visible for many miles. Birds and animals began to flee, scurrying and bounding through the trees in white-eyed panic, screeching and braying in terror. A white raven roosting in the high branches of a sycamore tree lifted from the thin branch and flew up into the sky as Genrit passed. It peered at him with a beady blue eye and gave a stern "Caw! Caw! Trouble!" at him before he was past, and was lost against the sky.

It was about that time that the sticky slime on Genrit's face and neck began to itch, the sizzling sound overpowered by the rushing wind in his ear-frills as he flew. And then it began to burn, a particularly worrisome sensation for a creature immune to the kiss of flame and unused to having his nerves scaled raw as his scales melted away and his muscle began to bubble and smoke. If he didn't do something it would slowly eat through his spine.

As Genrit circled around, he'd be able to see the she-drake's dark form as she emerged from the trees and took wing, a green arrow headed straight for him. Like most females, her wings were impressively long. The Viper powered towards the White, hissing. "Foolish drake! Your flame is spent! You think to awe me with such a display? Let's end this!"

The sensation of the acid eating away at his scales is new to him and he doesn't entirely know how to respond to it. He knows that it's being caused by her spit and that he needs to wash it off lest it cause too much damage. But for now he needs to respond to the dragon rapidly flying up towards him. Wordlessly he beats his wings to powerfully propel himself upwards before he loops backwards and twists, he flaps his wings one more time to propel himself downwards. He tucks his wings in and his weight does the rest. His body zooms down and he extends his front claws. It's definitely time to end this. He's had enough of this poisoned soil of a dragon.

His body rams into hers before she can adjust her path, the speed of his descent sending him crashing into her. A claw catches on her lower jaw and drags halfway down her neck before slipping out and slamming into her chest along with his other claw. The two of them collide with the earth with a sickeningly loud thud as his weight fully presses down onto the smaller dragon. Even though he pushes her down with the attack, the impact also harms him. A sharp jolt of pain shoots up one of his hind legs as it cops a lot of the impact from the fall, causing his claws to curl up and his leg to twitch and stretch out. He works through the pain that is both growing on his head and the newfound pain spread throughout his body. He needs to focus on the task at hand. He opens his bladed maw and plummets it down as he now attempts to finish her off by tearing her neck open, having pinned her beneath him.

Compared to the agile female's speed, Genrit's maneuvering through the air was ungainly at best. But when he let the warm air spill out from under his wings and powered himself on a collision course with the un-named green, falling much more heavily than she anticipated with both of his stomachs full and a thick hide of metal-infused scale, she couldn't get out of the way in time.

The pair tumbled to the earth, the green dragon flailing and snarling viciously as she bit at Genrit and raked at his gut with her back talons. Blood blossomed out of the deep gouge in her neck, bone and torn muscle glinting in the sunlight. The blood was falling around them as tiny red droplets. Given time the wound would have likely been a mortal one if she lived long enough for her heart to pump it all out.

More acid splattered out of her maw, joining the gory cloud around them. The leviathans struck the ground with a concussion that rippled out through the smoky, burning forest and shivered the surface of the lake. The huge trees splintered under the sledgehammer blow, doing nothing to soften the fall. The female dragon's body cracked and squished under Genrit, nearly everything inside her rupturing at once. Blood sprayed messily out of her mouth and nostrils. "At least you'll never find my hoard, codfish!" And she gave a last twitch before she sagged in death, her fangs locked into his neck.

And the huge white male hadn't escaped harm. The acid sizzled in the sudden silence, still eating away at his scales and the layers of meat underneath. Something in his hind leg had broken, leaving it mobile but excruciatingly painful.

Genrit's first response is to tear at her jaws, ripping them off of his neck and clamping down onto hers. His rows of bladed teeth further shred her throat, ripping upwards to completely open the wounds. If she wasn't dead before, she's dead now. The pain of the acid is starting to mount and he drags himself off of the crushed dragon. His wings twitch and beat, trying to get airborne. He manages to gain some altitude but the aching sensation that now fills his body makes it difficult to maintain his height, causing him to crash into the trees before him, toppling them. He roars in pain and frustration as he limps his way towards the lake, his body thrashing as it forces down the trees that get in his way.

By the time he finally reaches the water, the acid has scarred his flesh. The scales will heal over it, but the wound will always be there. He practically throws himself into the water in an attempt to wash the acid off. He writhes and lets out a muffled roar underneath the once calm waters. His head rears out and breathes heavily, feeling the pain of the acid disappear, though the other sources of pain still remain. His warm blood bubbles away in the cool water from the gouging at his stomach. Genrit drags himself up the shore and rests with his upper half out of the water. His injured leg is relieved of his weight somewhat but he still winces with each movement. His head turns to look at the path of destruction he caused to get where he is. The crushed body of his enemy remains motionless. A snarl builds in his throat and he roars in its direction. Half as a show of victory, half as venting the agony he's undergoing. He can't help but think to himself about how he would have dealt with this before his body was degraded. She would have been nothing to him. But here he is, wounded and sitting in... Water.

His lip curls upwards in disgust and he curls his neck back to look at some of the damage caused by the acid. A devious weapon indeed. His head faces forwards once more and he rests it on the ground, letting out a pained whine. His breathing turns somewhat ragged as he lays still and regains himself. He at least finds some form of entertainment in watching the smoke rise from the forest fire he has created. If not for the pain he would find this moment relaxing. Genrit stays like this for quite some time, shutting his eyes and trying his best to keep his body still.

When he finally opens his eyes once more he's met with the same scenery as before. With a groan he drags his lower half out of the water and begins to limp over to the corpse, the fallen trees cracking under his weight as he moves. When he reaches her he grabs her head and lifts it up slightly, holding onto her shredded neck with his other claw. He has to lay on his side as he does this, unable to support himself on his hind legs. He opens his mouth and clamps it down underneath her skull, shaking his head and growling as he rips apart the flesh beneath the scales. Genrit lets go to re-position, dealing further damage. He does this for a few minutes until he finally manages to succeed in tearing her head off. He drops it to the ground and rolls it over, looking at it front on. He snarls as he looks into her empty eyes. "So sure of yourself." He leans in closer, his throat rumbling in contempt. "You're dirt."

He grabs the top of her head and extends his wings, launching himself off of the ground and taking her head with him. His flight is unsteady but he relies upon the warm updrafts of the area to help him glide and conserve energy. Whatever blood remains inside of her head now leaks out, dropping down to the earth below as he returns home. Once he finally arrives he lands awkwardly, needing to drop the head just before he does so to accommodate for his wounded leg. His breaths are unsteady as he picks up his trophy and crawls inside his cave. Once he descends he places the head near the center of the open area that he resides in. It's still filled with water, but this water he doesn't mind. He lowers his head into the completely pure liquid and drinks, the otherwise cold water turning warm as his snout touches it.

Having eaten, fought, and drank, he pulls his sore body to the open area and curls up. He tries his best to ignore the pain in his leg for now. His eyes lock onto the head of the other dragon and his gaze hardens. A puff of smoke slips between his lips as he settles down to rest. He grumbles to himself, in desperate need of a proper sleep. And he's finally tired enough to achieve such a thing.

"That's one. Who knows how many more."

Skills
Bodybuilding: 4
Aerobatics: 8
Land Navigation: 3
Endurance: 5
Hunting: 4
Wilderness Survival: 1
Intimidation: 2
Observation: 4
Negotiation: 1
Unarmed Combat: 8

Knowledge:
Knowledge: Other dragons have claimed my territory
Knowledge: Using breath weapon indirectly to cause forest fire
Knowledge: The breath weapon of acid dragons smells sickly-sweet
Knowledge: The green female has a hoard somewhere in my territory

Other
Injury: Fractured right tibia/fibia due to fall. Will heal with no permanent damage if treated by a Journeyman+ healer in seven days. Will heal with permanent limp if treated by self within 7 days. Will become unusable if left untreated OR if Genrit fights or hunts anything larger than a normal deer in the next 7 days.

Injury: Large acid burn to right face and neck. Will heal with no permanent damage if treate by Journeyman+ healer in the next 7 days. Will heal with permanent skin scarring and visual (bot not functional) deformity to scales if treated by self in the next 7 days. Will heal with permanent scarring to skin, muscle, and scale growth if not treated.

All other injuries sustained are superficial and will heal with no permanent damage in the next 14 days.

Plot note:
Genrit's forest fire has attracted the attention of Pyresian scouts out on patrol.

@Tuddums