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Order of the Black Foot Chapter 6: The Blademaster for Leon_Thurma by Draconicon

Find the Blacksmith, they'd told him. Find the Blacksmith, kill him, and you'll be richly rewarded, they said.

Well, they hadn't said that the Blacksmith was a master of traps, and it had almost gotten the blue dragon killed. The only warning before the target's door had essentially exploded on him was a slight ticking sound, and even then he'd only recognized it after being the subject of such an 'experiment' on another mission. A split second slower dodging to the side, and he would have been rolling down the hill like the rest of the Blacksmith's door. Probably impaled with the shrapnel of the wood, too.

Dresnath shook his head, resisting the temptation to look into the smithy. That was a good way to get his head chopped off, or shot, or something else along those lines. Better to wait it out for a few minutes, see what was happening.

"If the Theocracy wants me dead, they'll have to fight for it!"

Well, that's familiar enough, he thought. The dragon sighed. How did he get himself into these situations?

He doubted that he had all that much time. The Blacksmith's customers were all the way down the hill in the town, admittedly, but they'd be hearing the echoes from that explosion by now. If he wasn't quick, then he'd have to explain what he was doing, and something told him that his employers wouldn't be best pleased about that sort of thing.

It was time to get to work.

The dragon stood back up, unsheathing the sword at his waist. A brief temptation flickered at the back of his mind, but he put it down. The Blacksmith was a trap maker, not a fighter. All he had to do was get close. He didn't need that.

He did, however, need his shield. He reached back for it -

Snikt.

And immediately threw himself to the ground. No sooner had he done so than an axe-blade swung down from the roof of the smithy, slicing through the space his head and arm had been occupying a minute before. It came swinging back up and thunked into the wooden roof.

Definitely a trap maker, and one that didn't mind stuffing his own home full of deadly devices. He'd have to be very careful, indeed.

Pulling his shield off his back while keeping to a crouch, he made his way to the front...hole...in the building, and stepped inside.

Ten minutes wasn't much time in the grand scheme of things, but it seemed to stretch into hours by the time that Dresnath managed to get to the back of the Smithy. Trap floors, trap doors, trap ceilings, trap walls - trap paintings for fucks' sake. How in the hell did anyone manage to trap a painting to explode as you walked by?

Somehow, the Blacksmith had managed it, and hadn't been averse to messing with his equipment, either. Dresnath had almost been brained by a falling anvil, had been assaulted by a barrage of hammers that had left a dent in his shield, and had even been bathed in flame for a few short moments as he walked by the forgefire, the whole thing managing to spill out along the floor as he tripped some sort of wire or other.

Even if I wasn't being paid to kill you, Blacksmith, I'm starting to think I'd do it for fun, he thought as he kicked open the door to the last room. As expected, another hammer came swinging down, but he was ready for this one, swinging his sword up to stop it in mid-swing rather than take another dent to his shield.

"I'm getting really sick of this, Blacksmith. Can we be done with this?"

There was no answer. Dresnath shook his head, kneeling down to the floor. If the Blacksmith had been trapping all the other rooms, it was a safe bet that he had a reason for this room only having a hammer on the door. There was no reason to keep this one any less trapped, unless -

Bingo.

His claws found the slight gap in the floorboards, and a quick flick of his sword opened a trapdoor. A tunnel spread out from beneath the smithy, heading away from the town. An escape tunnel in case anything went wrong, he imagined.

Well, now...let's see if I can't catch up with you.

The blue dragon hopped into the darkness, keeping his shield at the ready and his sword tucked low. Considering the hell he'd gone through in the smithy, he wasn't about to believe that the tunnel was any safer.

He was right. It was worse.

The dragon groaned as he finally stumbled back out into open air, coughing up smoke and brushing away dust and debris from his armor.

He is really starting to annoy me, Dresnath thought to himself, though he was starting to see why the Theocracy would have hired an outsider for this. Their paladins were decent fighters, but they would have lost at least two squads to all the traps in there. The Blacksmith was ruthless. Torches and oil, miniature cave-ins, crossbows set up to fire out of the ceiling and floor, not to mention trap triggers of every sort. Pressure plates, wires...hell, the dragon was half-convinced that the Blacksmith had found a way to make them go off from movement, though how was a mystery.

Even he'd taken a beating, and when the last cave-in had surprised him, he'd had to resort to that to cut his way through without getting killed.

And now...

Now the Blacksmith was just ahead of him.

The badger looked back at him in shock, some of the bravado he'd heard in the old man's voice fading away as the dragon pulled himself free from the tunnel. The Blacksmith took a step back as Dresnath approached, holding his hands out in front of him.

"You can't still be alive. I trapped that tunnel -"

"Very, very well, Blacksmith. You have a true talent for setting up obstacles."

"I am not going back to the Theocracy!"

"They don't want you back. They want you dead."

"HA! You think that surprises me?"

"I doubted it would."

The dragon shook his head as the badger took another few steps back, pulling a boulder between the two of them. It was only prolonging this, and at this point, he just wanted to do the job and go home. The fact that it was getting stretched out this far was only getting him annoyed.

He brought his sword down on the boulder, a tiny flicker of that shooting down the blade. He doubted the Blacksmith would notice, but it sharpened the sword with energy, and it cut right through the large rock.

As the two halves fell to the side, the badger froze, and Dresnath could finally grab him. Which he did. Tightly. Around the neck.

Lifting the badger off of his feet, the dragon looked up at him with a shake of his head. It was clear that the old man had been working for someone; the Theocracy wouldn't want to kill someone that was working for themselves, as long as they didn't become a problem. That meant that there was someone that would get annoyed with the loss of the badger's services, and for him, that meant someone that might come after him in return.

"I have two questions, Blacksmith, before I finish my contract."

"Nnnngh...put me...down..."

"Two questions, and possibly one answer. Who do you work for, and why does the Theocracy want you dead?"

"Since when...does a mercenary...question his orders?"

"For self-preservation, mostly."

"I...Nngh..."

He loosened the grip on the badger's neck, but only slightly. The last thing he wanted was a nasty surprise from a creature backed into a corner.

Instead, he got a nasty surprise from behind.

Someone else grabbed him from behind, a scaly hand wrapping around his neck as tightly as his own wrapped around the badger's. Dresnath grunted, immediately letting go of the Blacksmith as he tried to turn, but the grip on his throat was too tight; it wouldn't let him turn without snapping his own neck.

"I wouldn't start moving, if I were you."

"I'm guessing...I just found his employer."

"You could say that."

"Sir, why are you -"

"Go find a place to hide, Solomon. I'll deal with our little mercenary here."

Dresnath didn't bother moving. He was already caught; there was little point in trying to wiggle free, not when this stranger had this good a grip on him. There was a dagger that he might try and use to get that arm off of him, if he really had to, but so far, the voice seemed calm enough to be reasonable. Not so much angry as it was annoyed.

He could work with that.

The badger ran out of sight, and slowly, the fingers around his neck loosened. When they finally let go, the blue dragon took a step forward and slowly turned around, starting to make an offer.

"We can talk - oh..."

"Yes. Oh."

As the black dragon folded his arms around his chest, Dresnath felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was no denying who the other dragon was; Draconicon was known all across the Theocracy as the head of an order of 'terrorists' and rebels against the Church. More to the point, he was known as the most powerful threat to the Theocracy that currently existed, with most stories saying that he had the power to level cities and mountains on his own, should he ever choose.

Even if those stories were exaggerated, the last thing he wanted to do was push for a fight at this point. The Order didn't have his enmity, for a very good reason.

As a show of good faith, Dresnath sheathed his sword, and then slowly unbuckled it, putting it on the ground. He stood up and put his shield down as well, apparently to the satisfaction of the dragon mage.

"Glad to see that you don't want to fight."

"I didn't know that he was one of yours."

"Would you have taken the contract if you did?"

"I'd have recommended someone much less skilled."

"An interesting way to avoid conflict."

"It might be my business, but it isn't quite a passion."

"A good distinction to make."

He shrugged.

"Why are you here? I can't imagine that it's just to protect your investments."

"I was curious as to who the Church had sent to try and take down the Blacksmith. Considering that I had seen something through his eyes, I knew that you were a dragon, but there are others of my species among the paladins. Once I knew that you'd gotten through all of his traps, however, I had to see just what they had managed to find."

"I am good at what I do."

"Clearly."

Draconicon made a gesture, and Dresnath felt the familiar tug at the energy in the world. It shifted things around, turning the broken stone into a whole one again before smoothing it over. As the top flattened, more rocks pushed out of the earth, forming chairs at the side of it, and the black dragon sat on one of them.

"Sit with me."

There wasn't much choice in the matter, though in all fairness, it wasn't much of a bother, either. Dresnath shrugged as he took the other stone as a chair, keeping in mind where he'd laid his sword and shield. The weapons were quite valuable, after all, and losing them would be a blow to him.

As they got comfortable, he measured the other dragon. Draconicon was a creature of legends, and the way he carried himself showed that at least some of the legends were true. He had a great deal of power, and the fact that he could casually do what he just did - not even showing the effort it took - told the mercenary that the mage had sufficient magic to do a great many things. That, and the teleportation it must have taken to get here, was a good warning sign.

There was something different, though. The mercenary knew fatigue, knew how to spot it and how to use it against his enemies, and it was writ large over the dragon's face. Hidden behind a smile, at the moment, but it was there as clearly as the sun was in the sky. An interesting insight; perhaps the war wasn't going as well as it might, for the 'terrorist' leader.

The silence stretched on for a few more minutes before he chose to break it.

"I would imagine that an offer to leave the Blacksmith alone won't get me out of this."

"No, I would have to agree with that."

"Then you want something more."'

"I want a great deal more. Protection is hard to come by."

"Good protection is."

"And I know you are good at your job, spellsword."

He winced as the black dragon smiled.

"You hide it well, to be honest. I didn't know that you were using it in the caverns, but when you cut into the rock, there was nothing else that could be. The ability to channel your magic into your weapon and make it something more than itself. That is something of a feat."

"It's a...talent."

"One that's going to get you killed, in this day and age. I'm surprised the Theocracy doesn't already know about you."

"I'm good enough that I usually don't need it."

"And the times you do?"

"I make sure that there are no paladins around."

"You are quite the cautious one."

"It's kept me alive."

"Clearly."

"You want something. Spit it out."

"Heh. Getting frustrated?"

"Getting annoyed."

"Fine. Here's my offer."

Surprisingly, the black dragon pulled something out of nowhere, almost like he was reaching through some sort of magical portal to grab it. Some piece of paper, which he unrolled on the rock. A map...a map of the entire Theocracy, no less, with a few different markings on it that looked like encampments. And the encampments were not that far from where they stood, for that matter, including one that was only a few miles south.

"I am reaching into the Theocracy, little by little. Training camps, base camps, places where my people can take up places for when we make our move. As you can see, we're established pretty well here in the east, and we're spreading along the northern border as well, with some help from...neighbors.

"What I need, however, is someone that can take charge of this."

"You need a commander."

"Something along those lines. Someone that knows what he's doing. Someone that has a great deal of experience. And most of all, someone that has something to lose. Someone that is on my side because he knows that it is the best choice for him."

Dresnath shook his head. It was...something of a good offer, for certain. The idea of being a commander was more tempting than it should have been, and he had seen himself in a position like that before. Before the Theocracy, he'd actually been tempted to enlist with the Imperial Army and see how far he could rise, but the Theocracy had put a quick end to that.

On the other hand, he'd heard stories, and not ones that he was too fond of.

The dragon leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about it. There were advantages and disadvantages. It was only so long before his 'talent' became known to people that would see him dead for it, and only so long before they would start acting on it. It would be better to get moving, to find some bolt-hole or leave the country, but at the same time, where else would he go?

The Order, so he'd heard, was one of the best places for people with magical talents. But the cost...

"You're worried about something."

"Perceptive of you."

"I'm told it is a skill of mine."

"So is controlling people, from what I've heard."

"Ah. That."

"Yes. That."

"Is that a sticking point?"

"It's something you'll need to persuade me around."

"But you can be persuaded."

"...Yes."

The black dragon nodded, standing up from the table. He watched as the legendary mage started pacing around the table and him, somewhat surprised to see that the great Draconicon didn't wear anything but some sort of goo-like undergarment around his crotch. The mage didn't seem to take any shame from it, either, as he spoke.

"Imagine, if you will, an army of men and women and everything in between. Imagine that they have enough numbers to form a serious threat to the Theocracy. Now, imagine the Theocracy. Brutal. Powerful. Deluded. Willing to do anything to enforce their agenda. Willing to sacrifice anything in order to keep the power to do so."

He slowly nodded. His own mission was proof enough of the Church's policy towards getting rid of those that they considered a threat. Draconicon continued.

"Imagine someone building up something to stop this oppression. Then imagine, in the early years, someone -"

"I've heard of the deaths that you suffered at the beginning of your campaign. That isn't what concerns me."

"...Oh. Then what is?"

"What you would do with me."

Standing up, Dresnath put the boulder between the other dragon and him. It wasn't much, but there was some mental comfort in the distance, and he used it to keep himself calm. Barely.

"I am a soldier. One with some talent, yes, but I am a soldier. I know what you do to the people that join your Order. They become marked, controlled by you."

"Where did you hear this?"

"I've seen it. Once or twice, but I've seen it."

"..."

"I know it's true, you don't have to confirm it. It's what's kept me from coming to you in the past. I am a free soldier, a free dragon. If you put me under your control, you'll only weaken me as a tool. You need my experience, not just a puppet to dance around in."

"If you're worried that I will dominate you to that extent -"

"I am."

"Then you shouldn't be. I'm as aware of that problem as you are."

"Then why do you mark everyone? Why do you make it so that you can control anyone that serves under you?"

"...Prudence. Do you believe that you'll be under attack anywhere you go?"

"No."

"Yet you wear your armor, carry your shield. It's not an expectation or a need to use them, but a means of making sure that you can defend yourself if you are called to. For me, it's the same, and more. The mark allows me to step in. If you are in danger, I can step in and give you aid. If someone goes crazy, I can step in and stop them.

"It isn't a daily thing. I only do this if I have to."

"...You swear this?"

"I give you my word."

It was a weak promise, Dresnath knew that much. The soldier had heard the stories, had seen the evidence the time or two that he had knowingly interacted with Order supporters. The footprint on them was a mark of the dragon's dominance as much as it was a mark of their service to him. Allowing someone else to step in and control you was a terrible idea...yet at the same time, there was a part of him that could see the logic, if it was used the way that Draconicon described it.

If it wasn't, however...or if the dragon was ever tempted to use it in a very different way...

He can't possibly dominate everyone that has the mark, not at once, he thought, though he wasn't sure if that was wishful thinking or actual logic. He hoped it was the latter; magic always took some form of energy, and nobody was a god.

The black dragon shook his head.

"I can offer you command of the western camps, as well as the ones that we're building up in the south. Hanna is the one in charge of the north, and will be under me, rather than you."

"And how many times...will I be under you?"

"Heh...you've heard of that as well?"

"It's one of those things that seems to dance in the dreams of some of your followers...."

Surprisingly, the black dragon actually looked a bit embarrassed. He stopped, rubbing at the back of his head as he groaned.

"I guess there are some things that spread through the link further than I'd like. I'll have to do something like that, if it's spreading that far."

"Then you aren't trying to make a harem, hmm?"

"Not intentionally."

That was something, he supposed. Dresnath sighed, looking up at the heavens for a moment before sitting down.

"Fine. I'll join your Order."

"Good. I've needed a soldier for some time."

"So...how does this go?"

"You'll want to lay down. And take off your armor."

"Joy."

It didn't take long to strip himself down, though it had been a while since he was fully naked in front of someone else like this. He laid on his back, folding his arms behind his head in an attempt to get comfortable, though it was only partially successful.

From ground level, the strange 'clothing' that Draconicon wore seemed less and less like actual clothes and more along the lines of something that was painted on. He could see the details of the dragon's genitals easier than he expected, and as the mage stood at his side, he swore that the black dragon's shaft was growing in it, unrestrained as it would have been by clothes.

"I'll be marking you as an officer. You will bear the print on your chest, rather than elsewhere, like a common soldier."

"As you say."

"I'm glad that you're being reasonable about this."

"It's less reason and more that this is my best offer. I doubt anything will get better for either of us without some real work."

"We can agree on that. Now, hold still."

Dresnath nodded, watching as the black dragon lifted one foot off of the ground. As the toes wiggled and the dragon pulled on his magic, he saw that the underside of the black sole slowly began to get shinier and shinier. At first, he thought that it was just sweaty, but soon, he saw the scales turn liquid, the bottom starting to drip with utter blackness.

What in the world... He shook his head, forcing himself to remain still as the foot loomed over his chest. The little droplets dribbled down onto his chest, feeling like some sort of slime as they settled into his scales, but there was something else with it. A tingle, and...noise. A heavy, powerful noise just on the verge of his hearing, like a crowd half a mile away. Dresnath blinked -

"Ugh!"

And then the dragon's foot came down, pressing hard on his chest. The goo squelched around, splattering about, but formed a sort of dip around the edge of the dragon's foot, oozing up like a raised edge. It thickened and heated up rapidly, sealing to his scales, but Dresnath wasn't paying attention to that.

Instead, he was hearing the voices, feeling them echoing around inside of his head. His eyes went wide as he heard people that he'd never seen before. Quick, rapidly cut-off thoughts of murder; worried, quiet thoughts on fate; shy, nervous, loving thoughts for another; hate, darkest hate -

Get out of here, Joan!

And Draconicon's voice, shutting the hate off to one side. It was done so quickly that he almost thought he imagined it, but it was there. There was something, just outside of the mass of voices in his head, stewing and raging.

Slowly, the voices came together in a more cohesive group, letting him separate them, understand them, and gradually ignore them. He shut the voices up one by one, putting them to the side so that he wouldn't be distracted, until there was only one presence and voice left.

Draconicon's.

The dragon's presence in his head was strange, to say the least. It felt like there was a sort of pressure on his thoughts, like there was constantly someone there, seeing them and watching them. Yet, at the same time, he didn't feel like he was being pulled in any one direction, controlled or otherwise made to do something.

_Perhaps he is keeping his word.

I gave it, and I keep it where I can.

You mean you can't always?

I've yet to meet someone that kept every promise they made._

Fair enough, he supposed. He groaned as he felt his memories pulled open and quickly explored, flipped through like a book just pulled down from a shelf. It was...not comfortable.

You are even better than I expected. I will have to get you to the camps immediately.

Yes, I suppose you must...

Before he could stand up, however, Dresnath felt something else. It was far off, half-hidden, but it had been hidden recently. He pressed at it, and he had the feeling that Draconicon more allowed him to see it than he actually broke through.

He blushed, making himself speak aloud to avoid getting caught in mind-speak.

"I, um, see that you were thinking of some rather...indiscrete things."

"You brought them up."

"Perhaps we can...indulge...before heading to the camp?"

His new superior officer chuckled, sitting down on the boulder. Before Dresnath could move, the two big black soles pressed down on him, one dripping over his cock to form something like what the black dragon wore, while the other nudged his cheek with musky toes.

"I believe we have time..."

The End