Ore Struck [Kenna, Pickle, Stormy, OPEN?]

[Kenna & Fenrir]

DATE & TIME: 18th May, Morning
CHARACTERS INVOLVED: Kenna, Mr Pickles, Scratchet, Stormy
PREVIOUS THREADS?

Kenna sighed, she knew it was time to restock on her metals if she wanted to keep her working line still going. She looked out the window at her cart. It was the only way she could get the ores she would be getting from the mining spot back here, and she needed to get someone to pull it for her.

But who? Fens couldn’t pull it empty, let alone laden with ores. Pointless asking anyone with fire or sky dragons, they’d get bored with having to talk on the ground for the distance. No, it had to be a land dragon, a strong land dragon.

Kenna stood up in a eurica moment, “Trolley!” He was the perfect dragon for the job. Strong, land born and wasn’t as lazy so he’d actually do it. She'd forgotten that he was the one that she'd used last time. “Okay then, I’d better go ask for the help then.”

She half skipped to the door, opened it and found Fens at her feet, “Not today Fens,” she said, couching down to his level, “you can’t come with me this time. You know what he’s like with Terrible terrors. Make sure there’s no slacking while I’m gone and…try not to burn the place down.” She winked at her dragon, and he moved his front up into a sort of salute, making her giggle. She closed the door and walked down the street towards where his house was.

She got there relatively quickly and knocked on the door and waited for the response. The door opened and she grinned at the man behind it, “Good morning Mr Pickles, I require yourself and Trolley for some my mining work.”

[PMG3E]

The day started, as usual, with the crack of sunlight shining in on Pickle's face. Shouts could always be heard from the Manface household at this time of morning. The beast of the man was quickly appeased, however, by the sight of his ever-loyal dragon, Troll Bogeys; Trolley, for short.

Pickle had nothing much to do today - if he couldn't find something to do fast, he would resort to training in the arena, as per routine. Luckily, the door knocked. Trolley grumbled deeply.

"Who could tha' be, Trolley?" Pickle asked in his usual loud voice. The dragon shrugged, not really bothered at all. He hid his pretty potted flowers in his bedroom before attending the door. Answering the door, he was met by a familiar face.

"Kenna!!" He exclaimed with open arms. Before doing anything else, he scouted her ankles, knowing she owned a Terror. "Thank the gods you 'aven't brought that 'orrible beast with yer!" He said, folding his arms in contentment. He then brandished a large finger at her. "An' don't call me Mister! It's not ferocious!" Behind him, the lummox of a Gronckle grunted, as if to say 'Hi'.

Pickle usually complains about everything, picking fights with the locals, but face him with a woman, his attitude completely changes. "Yer need help?" Pickle puffed out his chest, as if to make himself look more manly. "Of course! I'll do any job fer a lady!" He went to get Trolley up, slapping the dragon's warty hindquarters.

"C'mon yer stupid beast! Yer gots some work to do!" Pickle acted as if he had no affection to the dragon, as that was what he wanted the village to see. The dragon reluctantly got itself up, obeying his command since Gronckles are remarkably loyal.

Once outside, Pickle moved the empty cart over Trolley's body, making sure the harness was properly placed. Nodding at his handiwork, he folded his muscled arms once more. "So where might we be going to get yer ores?"

[Kenna & Fenrir]

She smiled at his complaint (ignoring him calling Fens a ‘‘orrible beast’) and winked, “You’re always Mr Pickles to me.”

Kenna’s face gleamed when he agreed, and lead two of them to her cart and watched as Mr Pickles strapped Trolley onto her ‘trolley’. Once the dragon was harness, she jumped onto the cart, “There’s a cave near the base of one of the mountains, there’s quite a reserve of iron ore in there.”

As the two of them went off, Kenna looked up at the dreary sky; it was apt to rain before they got there. She sniffed the air, and smiled, “How’d the flowers going.” She muttered, He looked at her, surprised, “you’ve got a slight whiff on you.”

They occasionally chatted throughout the trip, sometimes she’d ask something, sometimes him. "I will try and get a Gronckle at somepoint, then won't need to keep getting you to help."

Eventually they went to silence. She looked down at the Gronckle. “How are you?” she whispered in her attempt at Dragonese, she had an idea she’d said it wrong, but she had to try at least to talk to a dragon. Trolley made a grumbling noise which she thought was ‘Good’.

She smiled to herself, she was sure that it would be a while before she’d actually be able to do any actual conversation in dragonese, especially since she could never tell if she said stuff right. They continued to move through the forest and a thought came to her head, “when will we actually get to the mountains?”

[PMG3E]

Pickle grumbled as Kenna denied calling him anything else. "I suppose yer want me to help yer mine the ores too?" Pickle asked upon hearing the location of the mine. He sat his great body alongside, feet poised and ready for giving Trolley a good kick if he was losing his pace. Pickle knew very well that the Gronckle's hide was incredibly thick and the kick would feel just like a light tap.

Pickle went almost as red as his beard upon Kenna's remark about the flowers. Did she see them? He turned the other way, hiding his embarrassment. If his little secret got out, his fearsome reputation would be over. "I um... erm... Musta' been those blasted flowers comin' back from the Arena!" Pickle lied, hoping that Kenna would buy it. He dearly hoped she hadn't seen his collection in his bedroom from the doorway.

They continued trundling along the path, and the conversation drew onto the subject of Gronckles. Pickle gave a hearty chuckle at Kenna. "'Tis not a problem at all, Kenna! 'Sides, it gives Trolley a good ol' workout, isn't that right yer great lummox!" His voice crescendoed as his attention was diverted to Trolley. Giving the dragon another boot in the tail, the little stubby legs worked like windmills in effort to pull the cart up the hill. It was easier for the dragon to go down than up.

Trolley was heavily concentrating on pulling the cart. It had been a while since he had done a strenuous workout like this. Suddenly a voice called behind him, a badly pronounced 'How goes the wife?' Slightly confused at the question, the Gronckle faltered it's steps. Maybe she was talking about Pickle? Did she know about his secrets? Not in the mood to speak, he replied simply, "Good."

As clouds were rolling in, they soon arrived at the cave entrance. It was like a gaping hole in the mountain, like a cavernous mouth. Pickle dismounted and turned Trolley around so that the cart faced the cave entrance. He then held out a hand gallantly to help Kenna down from the cart.

"Righ'! Shall we get started, then?" He exclaimed, clapping his two meaty hands together expectantly.

[Kenna & Fenrir]

“It would be nice for the help,” Kenna said to his offer, “But remember you and Trolley are going to be the main defence for us as well. The mines are rarely inhabited, but dragons do live nearby and will happily pounce. Really, it boils down to how many days we’ll be spending here, it’ll take somewhere between two to four days of mining, depending on how much we get done and how much we get interrupted. I’ve brought food for five days so we’ll have to leave by then really.”

She giggled at what she could tell by his face was a lie about the flowers, but she didn’t press him, it was his secret after all. They reached the mouth of the cave and Pickle dismounted to turn the cart round. I looked up at the clouded sky, and shivered slightly. She wasn’t very keen on clouds, partly because it meant that you could as easily work out the time (she didn’t like not knowing the time) and partly because it was apt to rain.

She took Pickle’s hand and dismounted herself. She moved to the back of the cart and grabbed two big unlit torches and passed them to him, “If you could do the honours.”

She grabbed the food which were wrapped up in what her bedding, “There’s a small area my parents made for living quarters back when they had to come up here for materials, I’ll do a few trips taking the stuff there,” she said as she took the now lit torch from him, ”Can you go down the tunnels to make sure nothings in there, there’s only about a quarter mile of distance so it won’t take you long to check, I just don’t think we should let ourselves have an unwelcome surprise, Trolley can guard the front and worn us if anything comes.

After a few paces, she remembered something, “Oh yes, there are torches posted throughout the caves, it’ll be good to light them as you go.”

It wasn’t far in the cave that there was a small doorway sized hall in the wall, she smiled at it and walked into it. It showed a small bare room with what had obviously a campfire years ago in the centre of it, there was also another hole in the side of one of the walls that went into a larder sized place. She went into there and dropped the food. She turned back and went to the cart again to get the pickaxes, his bedding and the sacks, which currently housed their spare clothes. As she was walking back to the hole again she hear some noises from inside the cave. Should she go check? Pickle might be in trouble.

She shook her head. She couldn’t leave the food now, what if terrible terrors or some other such creature smelt them and stole them? She just had to hope it wasn’t something bad, or at least something that Pickle could handle.

(OOC: Nice touch of creating what She actually said, I knew you’d get some fun thing out of that but that was a nice twist.)

[Scratchet]

Today, Scratchet was exploring the mountainside. She had caused too much fuss in the forest, making several flocks of dragons lose their catch, with tragic consequences. So she was seeking refuge in a weird cave.

She had explored it the previous day, recognising the signs of human activity here. This provoked the Nadder to take it's refuge in this spot to do what she does best. She never realised that she would have to have waited so long for humans to come, supposing that they don't actually come here often.

She had seen the storm, and rather risking getting caught in the wet, she was busy snoozing at the deepest part. She had cleared all the rubble and anything that might ruin her 'perfect' scales, and made a nest out of the leftovers of carcasses. Dreaming happily, a draft of warmth creeped it's way along the cold-blooded creature's body. At first thinking it was a dream, the heat got warmer and warmer, until the dragon realised it wasn't a dream. Snapping her eyes open, dilating heavily in the darkness, orange light seemed to be flickering off in the distance. She could smell him before she saw him. It was a human.

Not wanting to alert her presence, she stayed still, one beady yellow eye fixating the tunnel.

[PMG3E]

Pickle easily lit the torches. Once Kenna was out of sight and earshot, Pickle aproached Trolley with a caring smile on his face.

"Now then Trolley," He started, getting ready to give instructions. He patted the Gronckle's nose. "Yer gotta keep guard of the cave. There's plenty of rocks everywhere fer yer to eat fer yer firepower." Trolley grunted in confirmation. "I have to go make sure the cave en't teeming with beasties. I won't be long." With a final pat, he regained his Warrior-like composure, and marched straight into that black opening.

For now, the cave system was pretty uneventful. Lighting torches as he went, he was glad that the fire gave him warmth, because anywhere further away from the torch was ice cold. He knew he was near the end of the cave now, and was just about to turn the corner and he saw it.

A dragon. A dragon was living in this cave. The flickering torchlight made Pickle's scowl incredibly terrifying. One lazy eye was staring back at him. This sort of staring contest lasted a few minutes. Pickle knew he couldn't bellow - Kenna had not mentioned how stable the cave was.

"Bloody dragons..." Pickle muttered under his breath. The Nadder growled, shifting it's weight. Pickle's warrior senses were flooding back to him. He knew it would be punishable to kill a dragon back in the village, and a great handicap for mining with a rotting dead dragon in the cave, so he had to lure it out. He took a step back, raising his fists.

"Yer a stupid dragon! Yer know that!" Pickle said, trying not to raise his voice. The dragon said nothing and stared blankly. "Are yer startin'? Yer stupid dragon want to fight me?" Pickle said agressively, even though the dragon didn't budge anymore. This wasn't going to work, then.

Pickle strode up to the Turquoise dragon and booted it directly in the nose.

[Kenna & Fenrir]

Kenna had finally gotten the rest of their items into the area. She moved back to Trolley and the cart. She smiled at the fact that, even though Trolley was meant be the front guard, Pickle had forgotten to unstrap him from the cart.

She quickly disconnected it from him and pulled the cart into the cave next to the doorway like entrance. She quickly moved into the room, grabbed one of the pickaxes and her satcual of miscellaneous items, came back out and paused. Trolley should be able to stop most things, and he’d be able to call for us if he’s in trouble.

She wondered into the cave to see if Pickle was alright. Well, more if he hadn’t gotten himself too much trouble. Knowing him, if there was any dragon in there, he’d be in a full frontal fight. Having said that, he might not, he might think that this place was unstable or something. Hopefully he didn’t make that mistake; it’d be fun to see him in his fighting mode.

As she got to the turning of the cave, she saw them. Pickle and a cyan Nadder. She knew which dragon she was. Her face lit up. She didn’t care about mining at this point, she just wished she’d brought her most recent creation.

She watched as Pickle walked up to her and randomly kicked her in the nose. Kenna stifled a laugh, going for a passive aggressive method today it seems.

[Scratchet]

Scratchet made no movement as she could tell from the run-up that the Viking was about to kick her very hard in the nose. The pain was *totally* going to be worth what was to come. As soon as that leathery mass of foot connected squarely between the nostrils, Scratchet nipped the tip of it with strong jaws, and in a flash Pickle no longer had a boot.

Scratchet cackled with glee now, behind locked maws. She sprung up from her resting place, bolting past the Viking, skipping quickly over the second human in slight surprise, not expecting more than one person. Finally out in the open, she blinked a few times in adjustment to the bright sun. Purple-grey clouds hung ominously over the horizon, and Scratchet frowned, boot still dangling from her mouth. She did look quite goofy to any onlookers.

Looking back towards the cave, hoping the vikings would hurry up so they could be annoyed before the rain came, she noticed the Gronckle lazing about near the entrance. Distracted, she cocked her head a little and approached the fellow dragon.

"You're with them?" Trolley grunted in reply, as if to say yes. At first he didn't seem bothered, but opening a lazy eye, and remembering his orders, the naturally loyal dragon unnaturally sprung to it's feet as if it had been electrified. Quickly gobbling up a pile of rocks he had collected in the meantime, tiny wings kickstarting into effect. Trolley was ready to defend.

Scratchet suddenly backed back, alarmed. She had done nothing to provoke the dragon, eyes wide, she kept her head down. "Whoa, WHOA! I haven't done anything to you! Besides, fellow dragon's shouldn't attack each other!" Scratchet reasoned pitifully. "Here, take the boot back! It smells anyway!"

[PMG3E]

Pickle cried in shock as the Nadder made off with his boot. He was incredibly glad that the dragon hadn't taken his entire leg, but now he was bootless and without it things would be tough. He fumed. Fumbling in his pocket, he brought out an eyepatch and placed it on. Let the games begin."Come back 'ere ye useless lump of skin!" His voice rang through the cave.

No longer caring about the integral structure of the cave, he bellowed a warcry and made after the scattering dragon, bumping literally into Kenna who was just around the corner, knocking her over. His tone mildly calmed down in a split second. Grabbing her shoulders and hoisting her to her feet once more with strong muscles, his moustache twitched. "Are ye alrigh' Kenna? Can't talk much righ' now - got a dragon to catch!" With that, he ruffled her hair and bolted once more, a flurry of bad language echoing through the cave.

Exiting the cave, he was pleased to see Trolley taking up defenses - but he quickly ordered the Gronckle to stand down - the great brown lump ceased beating his hummingbird-like wings, dropping to the ground like a stone, but with a sickening thud. Completely ignoring the liberated boot, Pickle marched unevenly straight up to the already threatened dragon, and punched it right in the creamy yellow jaw. "That what ye get, yer stupid dragon!"

[Kenna & Fenrir]

Kenna couldn’t stop herself laughing as Scratchet jumped over her, with Pickle’s shot in her mouth. She watched the dragon run off down the tunnel, meaning that she didn’t see Pickle running up to her. She felt herself fly backwards and hit the floor, all her stuff flying out of her satchel. Pickle pulled her up and apologised, and then ran off.

“It’s alright, go get her Mr Pickles!” she jokingly shouted as she grabbed her stuff and shoved it back into her satchel. Once she was done, she started to run after them to see what was happen. As she got there she saw Scratchet looking slightly worried, Trolley asleep, but looking into the cave rather than outwards, and Pickle punching the cyan dragon.

Kenna was wondering what was going to happen next when she noticed that there was a slight pitter patter noise from outside. It had started to rain, couldn’t quite tell how much though. Then she noticed something appearing in the corner of the cave entrance. She sighed; this was going to get annoying in a second it would seem. There was a lone terrible terror walking into the cave.

She quickly ran to the entrance to the living zone so that she could make sure that nothing desided to sneak in and nick the food.

Although from how Mr Pickles will no wonder respond to the Terror, It won’t be a really worry.

[Scratchet]

The pattering of rain on the rocks and trees around Scratchet sounded like the drums of war. Eyes narrowing, honing in on the sound, she was distracted from the menacing viking, and received a nasty punch squarely in the jaw. With a roar of suprise, she reared her head high, refocusing on the viking. But the rain pelting down on her turquoise blue scales was cooling her blood down. The mouth of the cave looked like heaven from her point of view. This angry viking was too much a risk for this place.

With a grumble, and urgency to find shelter, she gave Pickles the evils. "Fine, you win. I have... other priorities."

And with that, she disappeared into the horrible sky, moaning all the way.

[PMG3E]

Pickle gave a nasty cry at the fleeing Nadder. Once it was a speck in the distance, he folded his voluptuous arms, nodding in satisfaction. Still got it.

"YEAH! YOU RUN AWAY!" He cried, his voice ringing through the valley. With that finished, he snorted, turning around to see Trolley sleeping in the rain. A brief look of horror flickered over his face."Trolley!" He half-shouted again. A watered Gronckle meant he was unable to produce his signature exploding fireballs. Reducing his voice to a whisper so that Kenna would not overhear his real concern for the dragon, he ushered the lump into the shelter of the cave.

In the corner of his eye, Pickle saw that brave soul that was a terrible terror. Rushing up to it before it could react - the cold cave reduced the reptile's reflexes - he grabbed the small mass of scales by the scruff of it's back, and booted it out into the rain without a word.

With the vermin sorted, he entered the sheltered area that Kenna was in and shut the door behind him. Torches lit up the room, and there was a pile of wood in the center that was to be a potential fire. Clapping his meaty hands together and rubbing them, he looked at Kenna.

"Shall we get this fire started, then?" He said. With that, he took a torch and some seal blubber, and ignited the fire. Warmth quickly spread through the two individuals. Taking a seat on a rock nearby, stoking the fire, he invited Kenna to do the same. They needed a break, from all this travelling.

"So!" He boomed all of a sudden. "What's the plan of action, then?"

[Kenna & Fenrir]

She sighed at Mr Pickles’ response to the dragon, she just had to hope it wasn’t one she knew. Though if Fenrir had followed then it would be his fault anyway.

One new wood was placed, and the fire lit, the two of them sat down in front of the fire as she put some food over it for it to cook. Her eyes were drawn to the flames. She’d always loved looking at fire, the way it changed constantly, never the same. It had this kind of hypnotic effect on her which she just couldn’t resist...

Mr Pickles finally broke her concentration on the flames by asking what they were going to do. She thought for a second, ”After we’ve eaten, ” she replied, ”We should get some sleep, it was nearly dusk outside when we came it and we need to be fresh tomorrow to start with the work. ”

They spent most of the time that it took to cook the food talking about their mining plans for the next few days, where the best spots were, how to shift things so they didn’t die of exhaustion and the such. She’d always prided herself on the fact that she was a good planner.

They went more silent once the food was cooked, and then Kenna’s mind started to wonder to this cave. ”My parents made this back while Cabbich was the head blacksmith. They would be the ones that went off to get the ores back then, taking their Gronkle with them. They made this place quite roomly, which is something, even adding a hole for the smoke to escape,” Kenna pointed at the hole in the top, with a grate on it which meant that no dragon of any size could use it to sneak in.

“I’m glad you got Trolley when my dad died. I didn’t want him to disappear back into our wildlife, and not just because I’d be in trouble whenever I needed to get new materials,” the two of the laughed at that. Kenna looked at her companion. He was a sweet person, once you got past his hard man pretence, which she’d always been able to do relatively well. She liked him a lot…apart from the fact that most of his face was covered in hair, she found that irritating.

Once they finished eating, he made the comment that they should get to sleep and Kenna agreed. She leant over and gave Mr Pickles a peck in the forehead, “good night, Mr Pickles,” and which that, she picked up her bedding and other personal stuff and slipped into the other room. ”I’ll sleep in here.”

[PMG3E]

Pickle listened intently to Kenna's plans for the next few days. Whilst he ate, bits of food got stuck in his beard, which he plucked out afterwards. When the conversation turned to Kenna's family, Pickle grew a little distant. After all, a terrifying Viking like himself couldn't be sentimental! Not in front of others, anyway. He still had a reputation to uphold.

Nevertheless, the beefy Viking still thought about Trolley. Given to him to somehow gain a better outlook on dragons, only made him affectionate exclusively to Gronckles. He still hid this fact, stubborn. Kenna's father had a more affectionate name for the Gronckle outside - Pickle only took up the nickname of 'Troll Bogeys' to create the illusion of distaste for the creature. unfortunately the name stuck, and the shortened 'Trolley' was definitely catchy with the other villagers.

"Aye." Pickle nodded. Though Gronckle's explosive fire breath wasn't useful in the forgery, their strength and loyalty had it's uses elsewhere, as will be proven in the days to come.

It was quickly time to get some rest. It had been an exhausting day, and the highlight in Pickle's opinion was forcing a vain Nadder into the cold rain. When Kenna gave him a kiss on the forehead, he blushed a little, though his was hard to tell through the shaggy mass of hair. He watched Kenna enter the next room, and as soon as the curtain pulled shut -

"I'm not Mr. Pickles!" He cried after her in his thick scottish accent.

After stoking the fire a little, he decided that he too, should go to sleep. Doing some last-minute sharpening of his trusty battle axe, the Viking set down some furs from a bag on the floor, and a larger one for a blanket. Out here, Pickle daren't sleep without some form of weapon. With the fire slowly dying, the remaining heat would prove an easier night's sleep than the terrible cold outside.

---

The next morning, sunlight twinkling through the little grate in the ceiling hit Pickle's closed eyes. He woke with a start. "Raaggghh! Stupid sunligh'!" He roared. With his mood in a normal disposition now, he marches outside. The Viking may be brawn and brash, but he still had principles, so he left Kenna's curtain that divided the room untouched.

Not seeing Kenna outside, he approached the huge rock-like figure, that seemed to be rising and falling in the middle. He stroked it's side. He knew Trolley wouldn't feel a thing, but hey, affection is given when it is due.

"Well guarded, Trolley." He whispered. He knew his dragon wouldn't wake until at least midday aside from danger or threat, so Pickle invited himself to do a perimeter search.

Walking around the vicinity, all seemed clear. Caves were always a dragon magnet - they'd have to be careful. Luckily Pickle found no Zipplebacks or Nadders that mostly inhabit the area, so he returned back to the cave entrance. He wondered when Kenna would get up, since it was her that caused his presence here.