Different.
That's one word you might use to describe Menkar. He was not like other men. He wasn't even human. He was a kind of dragon. A beast revered by many, and feared by many more. An ancient being naturally imbued with the powers of a demigod. But, to just call him a dragon would be foolish, for he could take on the shape of a human as he pleased. In fact, that's what his kind, the Manakete, did most of the time. It was easier on their magic reserves, and allowed them to walk among men. And that's what he was doing today. He was alone in the world again. The one whom he wanted to spend the rest of his days with was slain in battle not one month earlier, and he was still deep in grief. But he had learned to don a mask over such emotions in society. He'd done so many times before. It was a mask he'd learn to wear over two thousand years ago. Indeed, with the time defying blood of a dragon running through his veins, years, decades, even centuries were just fleeting moments in his eyes. He called it a curse. He had befriended many humans over his lifetime, and even married one who bore his child. But every single one of them had eroded away to the flood of time. Only he still stood strong. As he had been for the past two and a half millennia, and would continue to for many more millennia. Many he had met over his lifetime called it a blessing. But he called it a curse. Few Manakete walk the earth at one time, so meeting another of his kind was a rare event. In fact, aside from his parents, he had only ever met two Manakete, and one of them was the unfortunate bride to be.
The morning sun was just beginning to beat down on Menkar, who had wrapped himself in a giant brown cloak with a hood, concealing his entire body except for his chin and hands, which stuck forward, placed on his special cane, a gnarled wooden cane with a polished finish and an iron spike in the base which he used for stability on rough terrain. Wings stuck out of his back, but he kept them concealed under his cloak, giving the illusion of him being a giant, hunched over old man, when, while he was certainly old to a human, he was still in his prime as a Manakete. He wore this cloak whenever he entered a town, for while he could take on a human form, his wings were unable to transform. In fact, if you took a closer look, you might notice the reptilian slits in his eyes, or see the sharp teeth concealed within his mouth. Some Manaketes didn't have this problem. Transformation was not something you could improve, it was just there from birth. Female Manaketes generally had a far better grasp of the transformation, as most could fool entire countries into thinking they were human. But not Menkar. His transformation abilities were very lacking, and so if he wanted to keep a low profile, the hunched over giant under the cloak was the only way to go.
He lifted his hood ever so slightly and scanned the horizon, searching until his eyes came upon a small village not a mile away. This was his destination. Someone in this village had reported a sighting of a wild dragon, and maybe, just maybe, it was another Manakete. Wild dragons were very unusual in this part of the country, so the odds were fairly good in Menkar's eyes. With his cane in his right hand, he began walking towards the village, practicing the shaky hands and frail voice that he would use as part of his act.
He arrived in the village soon after, and approached a town guard. "Excuse me, young man..." he said to the guard in a deep, but quivering voice. "Might you be able to point me in the direction of the Moonwatch Tavern?"
The guard eyed him suspiciously, but dismissed his inner doubts and pointed down the road to a stone building with a man sleeping in a chair out front. After thanking the guard, Menkar faked a cough, and made his way to the tavern.
On the way there, he heard shouts and cries from nearby, and watched as a few of the early risers hurried over to investigate.
The person Menkar had planned to meet was likely not going to be at the tavern until later, so Menkar took the opportunity to investigate what was going on. After questioning a couple of bystanders, he determined that some meathead had fallen asleep in a barn and upset the farmer. Much more trivial a matter than he had initially assumed. He grumbled to himself in disappointment, but decided to stick around to see what would happen.
