[center][h1]Drugram Noldgar[/h1][/center]

A dwarf sat cross-legged atop a snowy peak, clad in a heavy cloak that billowed behind him from gusts and gales. Cold air. Harsh winds. Home. Or as close to it as he could get. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. Mana gathered to Drugram, coalescing into his body as he centered himself, meditating. 

While he was an outlier among the local riders in that he didn't dedicate his whole life to the cause, only a shortsighted fool would have turned down the call once it was known that those grasping bastards to the east were preparing to invade. So he'd left his clanhold with the full blessing of his people, leaving the most promising of his apprentices to advise and defend in his place during his absence. 

Sparks of lightning danced around Drugram's seated form as he continued to gather and focus his mana for the day ahead, taking more time than usual in charging his reserves. It had been some years since he'd engaged in any serious combat, and the prospect of such was looking more and more likely with every day that passed since the Alliance formed. Tactics and application of magic flew through his head, with Drugram trying to recall his battles and practical lessons. Anti-mana, anti-prana, and anti-dragon tactics went through his mind, all reviewed and looked over to see if they could be improved. At some point, the ground rumbled as a silver-scaled dragon touched down on the peak with a huff, giving his rider a brief look before settling into a resting position next to the dwarf. 

Half an hour passed. Drugram opened his eyes, the last few sparks around him dissipating as he exerted full control over his mana. The wizard rose to his feet, reaching for a staff that he'd laid to his side with one hand as he leaned over to pet Granigol on the snout with his other hand. 

[b]"Ready then, old goat?"[/b] He huffed, reaching into a satchel on his belt to pull out a stick of jerky that he offered up. The dragon snatched it eagerly, devouring the morsel in a single bite as his rider mounted up atop his back. [b]"Right, you know the drill. Behave yourself around the other dragons. They're not rivals for your damn territory or any sort of competition. Don't be a cunt, and we'll not need to have this lecture again."[/b] 

It was a familiar refrain, said without heat, and Granigol simply snorted briefly before taking off with a mighty flap of his wings. 

[b]"...Kovosian dragons're free game, of course. More brutal you are, more chance they might lose their nerve. Anything to get this damn fool war over with faster."[/b]