Illamnodrid,
Tale of the Lone Wolf

The night was cold and dark, the black pavement glittering from the recent rain in a damp orange-yellow light shed by a street lantern on the corner. No-one was around. No-one felt the breeze pick up out of nothing. No-one saw the blue-grey sparks in the alley. And no-one was around to see the figure of a lean wolf appear slowly. At first there was only a light, brighter than the sparks; but soon more substance was added as the light swirled around. The body and finally the head was formed, the light disappearing in the howling mouth.
The cry the dragon launched was piercing and low, a growl beneath the surface. He howled because he was hurt. He had been hunted for what was only in his nature. He was a Wolf Dragon of the Southern Continent of Lyria. He had spent most of his life around the Dead Forest, hunting the smaller Dwarf dragons and fighting to protect his domain.
But he had left Lyria a whole year ago. Forced to either leave or die when he had been defeated by an outside. A demon roaming the forest. The rest of his pack had chosen to die, as was the proper way to end a shame that went so deep. But he could not. Illamnodrid would always be known as one who fled. He had transported, a power he had never fully mastered since it wasn't necessary. The wolves were the rulers of the Barren cliffs and the adjacent dead forests. Why flee or hide when they could win? Ironic that the skill was know the only thing that was keeping him alive. 
From world to world he had travelled, always hunted by people, demons and dreams alike, always feeling the shame. Illamnodrid pretended he had fled to take revenge, but deep down he knew that hadn't been the case. Revenge had only came later, when he had felt the need to repay for his shame. The demon would have to pay for his deeds. But he couldn't do it on his own. He was but a mere Earth dragon and the demon was a dark spirit almost trice his size.
That was why Illamnodrid cried in pain. He cried for a pack, a new troop to help him defeat the demon and take back the power in the forest. But where could he find one? Only on Lyria where everyone knew of his coward heart.
The tall wolf dragon dropped to his knees and whimpered in the gutter. Licking up a bit of the stale water that had remained. He gurgled and spit it out again as he tasted the foul water. What was this dark place where the water was even murkier than the Black sea at home. Where the mood was more desperate and the dark closer than any other place he had visited. Maybe their were allies here. Refreshed in his search for a pack Illamnodrid got up and walked around the corner. He passed under the lantern, turning a hundred different shades of orange and then he was gone. Cloaked by his camouflaged hair. 
For hours Illamnodrid roamed the city, for that was what the humans in it called it. As dark as the place was, the humans within it were clueless about the paranormal life around them. Now and again one of the very young or the very old looked straight at him, but then they turned away, frightened. As he passed by them he heard their thoughts. Most were chaotic and irrelevant, but now and again he heard the thoughts of a clairvoyant soul, trying endlessly to get through… to show the danger. 
Illamnodrid sighed. Apparently this too was not the right place for him. He cursed his own talents for being underdeveloped. But when had he ever needed them? Maybe he should give up and search for the dead that would wipe out his crimes and set his spirit free to be reborn again. But in what would he be reborn? A dwarf? Never.
Illamnodrid shook his head, no, he'd have to right the wrong of his shame. He'd have to defeat the demon. And that got him back where he had started, searching for a pack because he wouldn't be able to do it alone. 
Illamnodrid sniffed the air and followed the smell of frying meat to a restaurant. Years of frying, baking and grease stains had drenched the place in a meaty smell he couldn't ignore. He carefully slipped behind a human to the inside of the restaurant, jumping to get his hind legs in before the door slammed shut. He looked to his left and right and noticed little humans playing in a brightly coloured construction. They looked good, but though he would have enjoyed eating one or two, he decided not too. Humans had the nasty habit of starting seeing him when their children were hurt. 
He dashed around the corner, his tail sweeping past humans, leaving a chill as he passed. Though they couldn't see them, their instincts told them there was danger. He bared his teeth when he saw one woman shudder and drop her bags. She pulled herself out of the knowing and looked around, a bit ashamed, but still frightened.
In the kitchen Illamnodrid found what he needed, meat that had not yet been grilled. He gobbled down at least twenty of these so called 'burgers' before he stopped a minute. Humans would come soon to get more meat. It would look strange if they saw the meat floating and disappearing. Illamnodrid grabbed as many burgers as he could and left the restaurant walking on his two hind legs, his back awkwardly bent. He wasn't used to walking the human way, though he could if he wanted to. They had all could, but why practice it when walking on all fours was easier?
Outside Illamnodrid ate the other burgers and placed himself behind a garbage container. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, feeling quite safe in his camouflaged fur.

He was running. Running over the grassy cliffs under the black-red sky of Southern Lyria. He was home. Illamnodrid looked over his shoulders and saw the shapes of his pack running behind him. He launched a victory cry when he realised he had them all back. 
He directed them on the cliff where they dashed through hordes of Dwarf dragons. Illamnodrid snatched a few of them and broke their necks. Soon he was standing with three corpses by his feet. Illamnodrid sniffed the promising air of sweat, urine and blood. Without much effort he ripped pieces of skin from one of the dwarfs, digging in to the juicy meat afterwards. 
After he had satisfied himself he sat down by the remains and howled to the dark sky. The fur around his mouth drenched in blood. Little spats of blood reaching up to his ears. He howled and was joined by the others. They sang and were happy.
Suddenly a shadow came over Illamnodrid. He looked around. The barren cliffs were empty. Where was his pack? Where had it gone? He turned around and around, calling out for them. No cries came back, they were all gone. Illamnodrid became silent and grieved. Soft noises of sadness escaped his mouth.
He must have dropped his guard grieving because without warning a giant demon, reaching higher than the mountains stood behind him, ready to slash down. But Illamnodrid shrunk down to the size of a flee on the Demon's skin. Running from it's scratching claws. Trying to get away. Always trying. 
"Coward!" a high screeching voice kept yelling. Like a hyena watching. But there had been no hyena dragons near the pack. Were there hyena dragons in his domain? Had they taken over? 
Illamnodrid suddenly screamed as he saw the claws of the demon rushing down. There was no way he could ever escape this punch. He braced himself and waited, knowing he was going to die…

"Yndra! Come back!"
Illamnodrid stirred in his sleep. One eye opened and his mind slowly left the agony of the dream to the cold and loneliness of the now. Three humans, coming closer. Illamnodrid sat up and looked to the three. One male, two females… but there was something wrong with the females. They didn't smell right, they weren't from this world. And the oldest female had a strange picture on her face, half of it was riddled with dark lines and circles.
"That alley is perfect." The oldest female said and started to walk toward his hiding place. Suddenly she stopped and looked directly at him. Illamnodrid looked around, but there was nothing that could have gotten her attention. She was looking at him.
"Stay!" Illamnodrid grawled.
The female ran back. "Back!" she shouted. So much for obedience.
Illamnodrid ran after her. She had to be silenced before she could alert the other humans of his presence. Suddenly she turned and stretched, becoming darker while the picture on her face became white. She was bigger than him now, but still smaller than the Demon that had defeated him before. Carefully he took a step closer, she lashed her claws at him. 
There was no way out of the alley. No way but a transport between worlds. Illamnodrid dashed toward the younger female and grabbed her. She was frozen with fear and didn't even struggle to get away from him. He went between the worlds, unaware that he had picked up the image out of the girl's head.
When Illamnodrid appeared back in a world, the girl was no longer with him. Somewhere along the way she had started changing too, becoming stronger as she grew. He had let her behind, dropping her as fast as he could. 
"What are you doing here?" a voice asked.
Illamnodrid turned around and growled at the person that had spoken to him. The person turned out to be a green dragon. Why were all these dragons larger than him? He had been a good Medium by Lyrian standards, but so far all these were bigger.
"The yellows are smaller here, though not much smaller than me." The green said.
"Size doesn't matter."
"No, but it will help you on your quest."
"What do you know about my quest?!"
"Enough to know that denying yourself won't help you."
Illamnodrid growled at those words that insulted him once again. He was doing this out of honour, not out of shame.
"Think whatever you want. Without a pack you are nothing." The green said flying up out of his reach.
Illamnodrid jumped to twice his height, but the green had expected it. "Why don't you check out the dark sands?" she asked and blinked out of sight.
The dark sands? What had she meant with that? He activated his camouflaged skin and wandered out. Humans passed and dragon eyes watched. Dragons, hundreds of dragons and most larger than him. Illamnodrid ran in the first cavern he could see, only to be welcomed by more hissing and snarling. 
Angry multi-headed dragonesses were protecting their eggs from the intruder. Illamnodrid backed out and looked around. He saw a white piece of paper humans used to announce, but he couldn't read it.
"I can tell you what it says." The green said.
"Back again?"
"Yes, my rider said I should tell you about the Bipedra Clutch."
"Tell me." Illamnodrid growled.
"The eggs in there contain bipedras, dragons with multiple heads and a vicious temper. You could stand, but you'll need to sign yourself in on the form.' 
"And then I'll get one of the dragons in there?"
"If you're bad enough. If you are kind you might only get a two headed dragonet only twice your size." The green said.
Illamnodrid leapt up and scratched her side.
"Ow!"
"I am bad." He said.
"We'll see about that!" the green said and flew off.
Illamnodrid looked at the paper. How would he be able to sign his name there? How was it even written in human language? Finally Illamnodrid just put his right front paw in the dirt and pressed it on the paper on an empty square. That would have to be enough.

BACK

Illamnodrid was adopted at the Keltic Spirit Glade.
Illamnodrid is a Candidate for the Bipedra 2003

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