The Eye of Science
We were blown away by your reaction to our blog entry regarding the localization of Dragon's Prophet. So now, Maxi presents to you the beginning of an extended background story telling the tale of three future dragons to arrive soon in-game. Do not hesitate to ask us for more and to share the story if you liked it!
“Professor!”
Silence.
“Professor Knotweed!!”
A wild tuft of red curls above a pale-skinned, freckle-covered forehead and piercing green eyes pushed through the gap between the door leading to Laboratory Room 12 and the hallway. Gaping emptiness.
“Where is that man gone again?” First Assistant Talaria Tradius asked herself, yet not for the first time since she’d started working with her eccentric professor five years ago. It was out of the question that he was a genius – one, whom she had happily provided with her work force after leaving the Academy with honours. But reliability or even punctuality weren’t exactly his greatest virtues.
Still, Talaria just had to smile, remembering Academy times when he had more than once stretched the interpretive tolerance of the so-called academic quarter. She liked her weird, scatty professor very much – however, only on a father-daughter-type level. Neither of them had much sense for love attachments to other Osirans anyway. After all, they shared only one real passion: dragons!
Talaria had never been interested in amorous relationships, not even as a teenager. It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough opportunities – or offers. She wasn’t very tall and more wiry than beautiful, but she had a delicate face with elegantly pale skin, which accentuated the flaming red colour of her hair and the clear green of her eyes. And if a person proved some real knowledge and interest in dragons, she actually engaged in a friendship here and there. Back in the days, Osirans were usually either impressed or envious of her. Talaria had never cared much about either, though. She never even noticed most Osirans. Actually, there was only one, who had ever impressed her … Raven Darts, the Lair Manager of her home village Helmoth.
She remembered him so well: Pitch-black hair and eyes, framed by skin as pale as hers. Even as a child, she had followed him everywhere he went and had learned all there was to know about dragons. All this seemed eons ago. With a nostalgic look on her face, she reminisced about her unburdened childhood, when there was no Lokfear, and Helmoth still was a great and beautiful – and zombie-free – place. When the Shax arrived with their accursed machines, and suddenly villagers started either disappearing mysteriously or turning into traitors, she had only just turned 19. A spring chicken, whose childhood had ended there and then. In one fell swoop, she had lost everything: Her parents had fallen in the great battle at Helmoth, and the same day, her brother Talaruso had gone missing. And so had Raven. Morgath alone knew what had happened to the two men.
Back then, Talaria indulged herself in utter desperation. She had never been a fighter and only ever been interested in her dragons. Her dad had proudly let her do as she pleased and never urged her to become a warrior. But now, they were all gone. For a long time, she had blamed herself that she got to survive while those people that could really move something in this war had vanished. She dwelled on self-pity and spent every last minute of her free-time with her dragons, who shared her mourning for Raven. And then, one day, the professor found her. She was sitting next to a Skitter, who had just cracked a joke, which she rewarded with a sad little smile, while she patiently petted an egg, which looked like it belonged to a mighty Legendary Dragon. Next to her slept the alleged dragon mother, whose wings were so enormous that they stuck out of the stall. Professor Knotweed had never seen such a peaceful picture in his whole life, so he had addressed Talaria immediately.
Quickly, he learned about her condition when she told him about the battle and her feelings of guilt.
“But child, don’t you see how important you could be for all Osirans?” he asked her uncomprehendingly when she had finished telling her story.
She frowned and looked up at him. For the first time since he had arrived, she actually saw him: very tall and thin, with ashen-brown hair and a thick pair of glasses on a hooked nose. And even then, he wore the inevitable lab coat. She noisily wiped her nose. “I’m not important. I mean, what can I do? Can’t even wield a wooden sword, much less a scythe or a bow. I’m no real Osiran.” She hung her head and slumped down.
Knotweed hunkered down and put his large hands on her shoulders. “You are inimitably gifted. And through your gift, you’re more an Osiran than all the Oracles, Sorcerers, Guardians and Rangers of this world”, he said. A single tear fell on her lap. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “You love dragons, right?”
“More than anything in this world”, she replied earnestly. “They understand me. And I understand them.”
“Then you’re an Osiran through and through”, he stated matter-of-factly.
Talaria remembered her kind father, and suddenly, she saw this man in front of her in a different light. From one second to the next, she knew she could trust him.
He got to his feet and petted her Skitter, who had patiently listened to the tall human’s words and who now cooed something into her ear. She giggled quietly and hugged her blue friend.
Before she even knew it, she had been accepted into the most renowned faculty of Laedis Academy and spent her days learning more things about dragons than she had ever thought existed. Quickly, it became clear that none of her fellow students could keep up with her pace – but unlike in the past, this didn’t cause any envy, and she won many friends. All of them were eggheads, as others teasingly called the people of the dragon breeding faculty, but Talaria couldn’t have cared less. Never before in her life had she felt better than now. And now was the moment that Knotweed’s new breeding line had chosen to hatch.
The continued crackling and crunching behind her startled her out of her reminiscence of old times, and she turned to her protégés. As always, it was more than tempting to help them free themselves from their thick eggshells, but only complete amateurs made such mistakes. Each Osiran with some common sense in them knew that a dragon always should hatch on its own efforts. Most breeds even ate their eggshells in order to harden their skin. Smitten with the scene, Talaria took a closer look when a small, blue snout forcefully pushed through a hole. “Hello, little guy”, she said delighted, and the dragon baby squealed quietly. “I love my job”, she sighed dreamily.
“Lucky me”, answered a deep voice behind her. Talaria didn’t jump. She was used to her professor suddenly appearing behind her out of nowhere.
“There you are”, she said without turning around and with slight reproach in her voice. “The little amphibo dragons are finally hatching. And as far as I can see right now, all at the same time.”
He smiled silently at her back and thanked Morgath for the hundredth time that he had sent him this more than gifted child. He had always wanted a daughter – and she was the best replacement that he could imagine. He stepped to her side and switched on science mode. “Please hand me those protocols, Miss Tradius”, he said businesslike. After he had become her professor, he had naturally started using the more formal address. People might call him old-fashioned, but he found that this was the best thing to do – especially in science circles. She did as she was told and immediately started making comments on the subject at hand: “Quacecroak was the first, followed by Gyllendor. Otonyavie took her time, as you can see”, she added and pointed at a crack in the golden-yellow eggshell that sheltered the only female dragon. “But she still seems to be the toughest. The crack in her egg is opening up way faster than her brothers’. I’m thinking she’ll probably be the first to make it out.” As if wanting to prove this statement, a large piece of shell suddenly loosened at the third egg, and a yellowish-red snout surfaced, which promptly gave off a cranky mewl.
“The little lady seems to be a bit grouchy”, said the professor while looking at the nose to search for traces of slime and blood, which would have been signs of the extremely dangerous dragonling angina. “Healthy and strong, just like a real Legendary Dragon”, he stated contently.
“Well, she kind of is, isn’t she?” said Talaria and looked at the little dragon with a warm expression on her face.
“Well then, let’s let them rest for a bit, shall we?” asked the professor casually. “Cantina?”
His counterpart threw him an imploring look. “But, they’re so small … and …”
“They’ll be fine on their own, and you know it”, Knotweed said with all the authority he could muster and pushed Talaria in the direction of the door. “We’ll check on them again in an hour.” She sighed and let him drag her away.
About half an hour had passed after they had gone to the cantina. The professor was clearly enjoying his dragon broth, while Talaria impatiently fidgeted in her seat, when suddenly an alarm went off. The young woman sprang to her feet as if stung by a giant wasp and ran off in the direction of the lab. Thin plumes of smoke were wafting out of the open lab door that led to the little dragons. Fear for her protégés made Talaria crank up her pace. She crashed through the door, almost knocking it off its hinges.
Ah, the benefits of youth, Knotweed thought to himself, after he had lost sight of Talaria halfway to the lab. He had halted at a corner for a minute to catch his breath. Still panting, he started walking again. Suddenly, the blaring alarm stopped. A little worried, he peeked around a corner and caught sight of Talaria’s back. She was trembling. Oh no, he thought and walked faster. He put his hands on her shoulders when he had reached her – it had been meant as a consoling gesture, but he now realised that she wasn’t crying at all. Instead, she could hardly breathe from laughing! Puzzled, he looked in the direction her finger was pointing and finally, he heard the strange little noise coming from the smoke. A hiccup! The picture he saw was comical and enchanting at the same time.
The three dragonlings had obviously freed themselves from their shells minutes ago and were now indulging in horseplay. Quacecroak and Otonyavie were brawling over the last piece of eggshell, while Gyllendor was plagued by a cute little hiccup, which kept knocking him over, whenever he tried to sit up. His fiery breath hat singed the straw mat, on which they’d previously placed the unhatched eggs. That was what had caused the tiny plumes of smoke, which in turn had set off the alarm.
“Well, at least we now know that the alarm works”, Knotweed said and dropped down into a chair, relief washing over him, while Talaria, who had recovered from her fit of laughter, put out the small fire.
She snapped the last piece of eggshell, and the two brawlers looked at her with big eyes, suddenly completely peaceful. “How’s this for a plan?” she asked them and broke the piece in two halves. They started panting and showed their small, but razor sharp teeth while accepting the pieces with their tiny paws and greedily gulping them down. “And now to you”, she muttered and grabbed a bottle containing a blueish colour potion, which she gave to Gyllendor. The hiccup instantly waned. The small dragon picked himself up, only waiting to fall over again. When no such thing happened, he looked at Talaria with golden eyes and gratefully snuggled up to her hand. The two other dragon children came crawling to Talaria and imitated their brother. Shortly after, they all had fallen asleep. The professor had observed the scene and smiled contently. “I’d say, experiment “Amphibo Dragons” is a complete success”, he stated.
“Yes”, Talaria said. “You’ve done it again.”
To be continued … if you want! Let us know on the forums!