Posted on 12/28/2009 9:44:19 AM PST by asimshah
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(Excerpt) Read more at environmentpk.com ...
Precisely.
Though a Dragon Princess might look somewhat peculiar.
What kind of garnishment to one’s appearance does a Dragon Princess do?
And what rites did the poor lad stumble across while out foraging?
Hopefully the poor lad won’t become victim to an “Oh, how cute!” sudden pet syndrome moment while wallowing in Bounder paraysis.
I would expect them to wear colorful diadems of the best gold and jewels on their heads, irrespective of how many heads each has.
And if more people lost their hands when they tried to pet a cute little animal, fewer people would be able to type as well as I.
Depends on the time period in the dragonworld in part, I guess.
Easrlier in the history, the garnishment would be cruder and less fine, but more visually assaulting.
Later, when humans and dragons trade services, the metalwork is more delicate and refined, but still oversized.
And it was said of their greatest smiths, “He used his own fire.”
Dragon smiths, something to be feared.
Figure about three hundred years of Human/Dragon peaceful cohabitation.
Before that, the Dragons ruled unimpeded until the Humans came.
Warfare against the Dragons didn’t work so well, so the Humans learned to live with them, and to accommodate to their ways.
I prefer fire dragons, a la Pern.
Check out the movie Ink. Netflix has it on their “Watch it now” thingie...
Oh, they cribbed that from a Chuck Norris joke!
They do have a sense of humor.
A sign of all advanced species.
I have to get back to writing lesson plans. And I hate it when there’s no mail.
Another difference between my dragons, and those of Anne McCaffrey, may be that my dragons can't get drunk. The same can not be said of certain disreputable dragon-handlers, who along with their charges have found a unique method of interspecies commerce.
Particularly after they reach adulthood, the dragons are mainly herbivorous. Their massive consumption of vegetation is allowed to ferment internally, with its alcoholic content separated and stored in a flexible second stomach.
It can be regurgitated to be mixed with longer-chain molecules, to make it stickier and gooier, but it remains quite flammable. It's like organic napalm.
The ignition trick comes from tissues similar to muscle. As in the electric eel, exciting these tissues causes a build-up of voltage.
A similar mechanism operates in the dragon's "fire-lung", a chamber developed from formerly external skin, in which spray glands emit the more pure form of alcohol. This mixes with fresh air drawn in for the purpose, and is ignited after the chamber is sealed by a "lung-flap".
When another electrical discharge provides the spark of ignition, the fire-lung expands, pulling against strong tendons attached to the flight membrane, and providing the power stroke which gets the dragon airborne. Note that other than toppling from a high perch, a dragon cannot take off silently. (Military historians take note.)
Dragons had a primitive technology, equivalent to that of ancient Rome, when the humans arrived in a derelict starship. Until communication could be established between the species, a state of natural war existed between them.
Humans had the temporary advantage of greater technology, but not of numbers. It was touch and go for a while.
I think this story needs ... lots of wine.
Don’t know how our intrepid forager gets out of his pickle.
He’s in pretty hot water being by the Sacred Pool of Kith’n.
Of course, the Bounder would similarly have been in hot water if our forager hadn’t caused it to expire noisily enough to attract the perimeter Hereditary Guardian to investigate.
A Bounder near the site of the Rites would be cause for concern.
I sense Dracon sense of humor in, er, rewarding our charge for expiring the errant Bounder.
Even if he is rather immobile to appreciate the honor?
I'm trying to talk Darks into collaborating with me on writing it.
Your idea has considerable merit.
The brain is slowly coming up to speed.
Not certain what the cat sized acid lurgee critter would be useful for, but pretty much the natural animals on this planet have had a rough go at it for several millenia before the arrival of man.
And obviously so consideing the dominant creature is a large fire breathing and spitting lizard that has a hierarchy and honor system.
In my story, the Humans did not originally have princesses. One young lady happened to come by that title by virtue of the "enchanted princess" fable, consigned as she was to suspended animation in a whitebox.
It was the Dragons who had a Royal pattern of rule, with Dragonlords controlling and defending large territories.
By default, in accepting the hospitality of these Dragonlords, (in exchange for services being rendered. Humans can allegedly be useful.), the Humans also accepted and mirrored their form of social order, a medieval one.
In this wise, we get swords and machines, flying dragons and soaring rockets, primitive transportation and interstellar battles.
Ah, the Sleeping Beauty.
Her name forgotten by the living, found by accident among the ancient relics, and possessing knowledge the descendants of the survivors do not have.
In my vision, the Dragon planet is one of difficult overland movement, many isolated regions giving rise to microclimates and diverse creatures.
The Dragons claimed all the best locations, feuding for hundreds of years over them. Many less desirable locations offered shelter to juveniles who could only plot and scheme, and attempt to grow more powerful.
Their economy depended on agriculture, and trade consisted of new varieties of grains, new mechanical contrivances, and decorative baubles and trinkets.
The Dragons would have their own versions of stealth assassins, and their own methods of fighting hand-to-hand, (as it were).
The Human entry was through trade and service. They tended fields and gathered in crops. They fashioned trinkets and new inventions. They built ornamentation on to the Dragon Castles and fortifications.
And the slow and venal among them plotted as the juvenile dragons did, planning and hoping for the day when it could all be theirs.
Into this chaotic social scene strode the (retired) starman Talon Starp, destroyer of ships, traveler from beyond the stars, and ... teacher.
Whoa! Wait a minute!
There are no ancient Human relics. The Human contingent has only been on this world for four hundred years, remember?
Don't worry, we'll get a little of the power of antiquity into our story. I mean real antiquity, too!
Being a teacher means yelling at unruly students, like this?
“Now look what you’ve gone and done to yourself. Gotten yourself declared a Hereditary Guardian Protector. Do you have any idea what is in store for you?” the deliberate methodical voice never changed in tone or inflection, but the way it spoke made him feel almost withered and eviscerated.
“But.. Master Starp, I didn’t MEAN to!”
“One never means to do such that would get one declared a Hereditary Guardian. Your schooling must now be done by Kor’Haht as you are now no longer under my jurisdiction. Digest this thought, you are now considered a Knight of DragonLord Jharla the Red.”
The full weight of this sunk in, and Jarred did a most un-Knightly act and swooned to the floor.
The Bounder spit hangover might have been a viable excuse.
“And that is why I taught you not to forage towards the North of the town. Brash pup.” Kor’Haht, the teacher of the lore of the Dragons pulled at his wings.
As a member of the teaching caste, his wings were somewhat more ornamented than usual, and were held to evoke an image of a cloak.
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