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[Colour=Silver][I]Grey clouds covered the sky, almost as if dust had collected atop the world, no one left to care for it. The day was not forgiving as Norco and the few men that accompanied him walked the cold and expansive eastern steppe. Only the toughest grass could survive this climate, and even that was in short supply. The small tufts grew as tall as the hard ground would allow them, trying to reach the sky for something else to latch onto.
They numbered fifteen in total. The chieftain had seven men that he regularly looked to, with another five endeavoring to follow under the irregular circumstances. A couple were very old, one almost too young, but the eastern peoples had been known to blood their young quickly. Survival was not an easy task and the sooner children began to earn the food they ate the better. 
The familiar squeal of a Grey-Kite Hawk followed the line of men high in the sky. It was a predatory bird, but it was not above scavenging. They had learnt to follow men across the steppe in hope of the hunts scraps, but all it did was instill the feeling that they might become scraps themselves. 


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It took almost an hour before they reached the caves. As if eating the dried river bed, sharp stalactites hung from the ceilings lip. They cautiously delved into its dark belly. It was a struggle to get the older men across the jagged rocks. The river was dried but water was still abundant, making almost everything slippery. In took almost twice as long to traverse the cave than it did to reach it. Norco did not expect it to take so much time but as they set off so early they still had most of the day.
At the caves exit they dropped a hefty amount of supplies, covering some in rocks and branches in case of wanderers. They did not want to walk the rest of the way with the added weight, and they would not need it until their task was complete. Taking only weapons they began the journey across the forests edge. 

Silent for most of the journey the men feared where they headed. In an attempt to diffuse the tension one man spoke up, spinning a tale of the ancient dragon Tavurth. Caught in an icy prison the men whom found him lit fires, as the ice melted they watched an age old breath exhale from the beasts nostrils. It was still alive. It tore the men limb from limb, breaking its horned tail free and swinging it wildly. It was only when Tol the strong joined the fight that the violence stopped. Jumping from a great height, spear in hand, he dug it into the beasts skull. He rode its death throes before being catapulted across the ground and over the steep ridge where they stood. As the survivors gathered they gutted the Dragon and bottled its blood. In thanks to Tol they pored a libation before all taking a sip. 
[Colour=Gainsboro]"Dragon's blood, especially that of Ice dragons. Is said to hold magic itself, it can grant the most wondrous blessings on the men whom acquire it."[/colour] Some men chuckled at his fantastical tales, the old men simply didn't listen. The young boy, his face didn't drop its fearful expression. 

[Colour=Gainsboro]"Hold!"[/colour] Norco shouted. They all stopped dead with widened eyes. Barely past the last few trees stood a tall face of slate rock. Bored into its length was a cavernous hole, claw markings dotted its edges. Norco turned to face the men he had not known for more than two days and stared each one in the eye. As they gathered around he stared into the pitch black darkness before seeing the haze of breath escape into the air. 
[Colour=Gainsboro]"Surround yourself with the greatest warriors, or cower in the deepest, darkest hole you can find,"[/colour] His arm stretched forwards, holding a long broad sword. 
[Colour=Gainsboro]"It matters not! I SHALL TAKE YOUR HEAD!"[/colour]
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