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Message: <blockquote data-quote="grufflehead" data-source="post: 5203939" data-attributes="member: 35977">The dragon roared in pain as the knight's lance pierced the scales beneath its wing. It drew its mighty head back and unleashed a gout of flame that threatened to engulf the armoured figure, forcing him to crouch behind his great shield for protection, When the inferno had passed, the warrior lunged forward, dodging a swipe from a huge claw and sunk his sword up to the hilt in the beast's chest. With a thrash and a final scream of fury, the great wyrm lay still, its reign of terror finally over.One by one the tiny figures which had played out the scene on the upturned ale keg, winked out, until only the 'knight' remained. He wearily climbed aboard his white charger, and with a salute, rode off, the pair fading into a twinkling mass of tiny coloured lights which began to spin in a vortex above the barrel until in one great rush they zoomed skywards and burst in a multi-coloured spray of tiny fireworks, drawing laughter and applause from the children clustered in a circle on the grassy hummock near the placid millpond.'More, more!' they shouted excitedly, eager hands grabbing the robe of the story teller, pleading voices urging another fable.'Very well' said the erstwhile bard, clearing his throat. 'This tale is about a beautiful princess, who wore a shimmering white dress that made her look like an angel. Look, there she is now'. He extended his hand to the small house from which Glida had just emerged with her handmaidens. As the children turned in the direction the figure indicated, he used the distraction to softly chant words of power which caused a beam of sunlight to grow momentarily in intensity, making the young woman appear to glow with an angelic radiance as she walked amongst the wellwishers, bringing gasps from the crowd. 'I'll tell you more of her adventures another time. Now, who'd like to help an old man up?'. A couple of the older children helped him to his feet, whereupon he carefully brushed strands of grass from his embroidered robe, and stood up as tall as he could manage; which for one as old as he was a feat in itself. With a wave of his hand, he summoned his staff to him from where it lay on the ground - a smooth rod of metal, no thicker than a coil of fine rope and as tall as its owner. At the tip it split into a Y shape, with each branch having a clear crystal shaped like a tooth at the end.Dalmatius Gruffle, Professor of Magical Studies at Candlespire Keep, Master of the Arcane, Wizard of the Order of the Dove leant heavily on the staff, his stooped frame an indication of the many summers he had enjoyed. His brindle fur, once majestic tan and chestnut, was now heavily streaked with grey, almost white around the muzzle, yet his eyes still held a merry twinkle as he hobbled over  to watch the wedding ceremony.No sooner had it finished, and the bride's bouquet had been caught by a rather embarassed looking Verrik woman (who at least hid going red rather well), than Glida excused herself from her family and new husband, hitched up her dress and ran over to where the ancient Sibeccai stood.'PROFESSOR!' she yelled in delight, 'you made it!'. She wrapped him in a hug that made his frail bones ache, but which nevertheless made him feel full of life. Pulling away from her embrace, he made a show of taking out a pair of half moon spectacles and perching them on his snout. 'Well, I may be old, but it would take something special for me to miss the wedding of one of my favourite students. It is so good to see you my dear, you look radiant. Now, you'd better let me meet this husband of yours so I can lecture him on depriving the University of a talented pupil'. He linked arms with the young woman, and together they walked over to meet the groom.</blockquote>

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