My dear Smok,
It has come to my attention that I have been to that secret
war council!
First off, it was the worst day of my life. They
blindfolded me and made me chew some dragon’s tail while we traveled! It was
disgusting, tasted like Yovian.
Anyway, once we got to that dark cave and they
un-blindfolded me, I saw that the other dragons had already arrived. They set
out a torch so that I could see the dark shapes in the water but couldn’t see
the other dragons. Apparently the other dragons couldn’t make it but were with
us in spirit in the waters of the cave. It was called “Ripweed,” communicating
through water. I don’t know why they called it that; probably because the guy
next to me had an ugly stupid reflection who looked like he was on seven different
class A drugs.
Anyway, the one talking with me was very nice. He seemed to
adore every single word of mine, mouthing it all with me. Come to think of it,
it got a little tiresome at one point. But the only problem was that he didn’t
respond to me! I asked about it, and the dragons who had brought me there said
it was because he had been muted by an old war wound but listened and carried
out plans very effectively. I believed them, for about three seconds before I
saw that his ears looked exactly like mine, and he was mimicking everything I
did and said, and his claws were curved the same way as mine, and his muscles
moved like mine, and his tail swished from side to side like mine.
Jellifications, I had it! He was my reflection! I was being cheated by these
people all along!
But then I saw it. My reflection didn’t show me properly.
If you’re on the opposite side you’re supposed to be facing the other way. Your
right is their left, their left is your right, your back is their tail, their
claw is your tongue, their olfactory sensors are your—anyway, you get the
point. But this one, their tail was on the same left as my tail was. So it
couldn’t have been my reflection at all!
Ha ha, I figured it out and was not mistaken, Smok. I am a
genius of the highest intellect. The dragon across from me on the other side of
the water, however...
Anyway, we had a fulfilling war council except for the
dragon next to me. He had the intellect of a half-frozen wooly mammoth. There’s
one disqualifying factor about mammoths—they’re dead! Their bodies are there,
but their brains no longer function!
This guy was idiotic! He was a spitting image of your uncle
Trubodox! I really mean it. Same size, same shape, same way he reasoned through
things. Of course, he couldn’t have been Trubodox. It was a dark cave, after
all, and I couldn’t see him. But anyway, it wasn’t him. I know it. If he was
there, we’d all be dead listening to his stupidity. This guy, I was only
half-dead. So of course it wasn’t Trubodox but it sure was like him.
Well, anyway, we had a conflict going out of the cave, and
I got mad and flame-broiled him to cinders before the others pulled us apart
and led us back to our respective caves.
When I got home, immediately my drake butler Xunt informed
me that I had mail. It turned out that it was from my dear friend Rexrei
Wythwave (the only one to best me in the fire-breathing contest at the
convention, and DEFINITELY NOT the only one to best you, you sniveling rotten
potato) and he wanted my opinion on whether he should move farther west to
Higard or stay in his coastal region.
I promptly wrote a very, very long letter telling him in a
roundabout way that it really was up to him and I had no opinion. However, I
told him that the human population in Higard was bigger and more feisty, which
would constitute more fun for a skilled dragon such as himself. Anyway, I’ve
yet to hear back from him on that point.
According to Rexrei Wythwave’s stats, I believe he will
actually be remembered as one of the greats, as long as he just makes a few
dominating moves to secure a province and boot out the dragons living there to
terrorize completely alone. His fire-breathing ratio is spectacular, his size
is enormous, probably even bigger than your uncle Trubodox, and his white-silver
scales create quite the scare to humans. He is a fierce fighter; he once fought
off Skrill the Screamer, even, and Skrill fled into exile in the wastelands far
to the North, just like Pellicor did when you smoked out those rogue dragons in
Frostuay.
Anyway, that’s just a bit of prattle. I heard you’re
keeping a diary now; very good practice, good for posterity and your writing
skills.
-Your serpentine uncle,
Scaligar
Z, I tagged you!
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