The Adventures of Bugs and Mugs (Part 1)

Standard

Once upon a time there were two young dragons. They were Bugs and her younger brother Mugs. They had dragon names of course but as dragons are loath to reveal their true name these will do for the time being. Bugs was a long, willowy dragon with pink and purple scales who is very inquisitive. Mugs is thicker though not as long as his older sister with red and gold scales. He is very energetic and loves to pounce on anyone and anything that he comes across.

One day Bugs awoke to the sounds of squealing.

“Oh dear, what has my brother pounced this time?” she said to herself as she hurried out of her cave to see what was happening.

As she moved into the main cavern structure she saw that she had been correct. There was Mugs, crouched on top of something, holding it down, his tail wagging in the air. He looked back at Bugs with a grin that was devoid of any guilt over the poor wriggling creature trapped beneath his talons.

“Bugsy, Bugsy. Look at what I catched.” Mugs exclaimed to Bugs using his pet name for her.

What Bugs saw was like no animal she’d seen before. It was uniquely colored with a mix of dark brown hide and shiny silver scales all over the body. There was also a shock of bright orange –red hair all over what seems like the head. It was a thick stocky creature that was just a little smaller than Mugs was. The oddest thing about it was the sounds that it was making. It almost sounded as if it was using words, though if they were words they were too difficult to understand between the low growling tones that kept being interrupted by bursts of high pitched squeals of what was either laughter or tears.

“Ach… Get off me, hee hee, ya beastie. Eeek! Oh lordy. Don’t, ahhh ha ha, eat me. Dwarves are, Gah, nothing but gristle.” Choked out the creature.

Mugs was laughing so hard that smoke and sparks began to escape his muzzle. This in turn seemed to spur the mysterious creatures’ howls and thrashing even more. This, of course, caused Mugs to laugh all the more fervently. It was a vicious cycle that was sure to lead to an unfortunate end. Most likely waking up Mom or Dad.

“Mugs! You know you aren’t supposed to eat creatures who can talk. Mom and Dad are gonna be mad.” pleaded Mugs to her brother.

At the mention of their parents Mugs calmed down visibly, albeit reluctantly.

“I’m not gonna eat it. I just wanted to pounce it. It did sneak into our cave when it wasn’t supposed to.” he replied somewhat guiltily before turning back to the poor creature upon which he was still standing.

“I’m not gonna eat you. Please be quiet before you wake up Mommy and Daddy and get us in trouble.”

With those words of reassurance, and possibly more so the cessation of the rain of sparks, the self-professed Dwarf stopped yelling and thrashing. He seemed to be mulling over the idea of “Mommy and Daddy” quite seriously. He attempted to speak and faltered multiple times before finally responding cautiously.

“So, ahh… you creatures can speak can you? Do you think you might, possibly see as to, perhaps, get off my chest. It isn’t as if I really mind but yer claws are scratching me breastplate which I may have borrowed from my brother… without telling him…

He trails off as he sees smoke begin to pour out from Bug’s nostrils and a narrowing of her eyes into irritated slits.

“Who are you calling creatures you, you, creature you. We are dragons, the best there is!” Bugs exclaims while rising to her full six foot height.

Wincing as Bugs gets louder and shriller throughout her outburst, the dwarf attempts to calm her down with flattery.

“Of course, of course most impressive of dragons. No need to be upset. You are quite correct. Compared to you, a mighty dragon such as yourself, I am but a lowly creature. I must have misspoke, clearly dazzled by your obvious brilliance. Well that and possibly from the lack of oxygen from having this fine young dragon perched upon my chest.”

Bugs wasn’t completely sure of everything the creature, or dwarf, was saying but she did think that it sounded properly apologetic so she relented.

“Well as long as you know your place I supposed I can forgive you.” She says. Then looking to her brother.

“Ok Mugs, let him up.” and then back to the dwarf.

“You better be good or I will let Mugs eat you.”

At that Mugs grins a toothy grin at the dwarf and says,

“Yeah. Betta be good or I gets to eat you.”

The dwarf shudders at this, then exhales a big creaky breath as the young dragon jumps off his chest.

“My thanks young dragon. Aside from a possible broken rib, that feels much better. That was quite the tackle earlier. I never saw you coming. You must be quite the hunter. I, by the way, am Carrack Axebreaker. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?” he asks with a bow.

The two young dragons look at the bowing dwarf and burst out laughing once more as if they have never seen anything so funny.

“Why do you have such long fur on your face but shiny scales on top?” Asked Bugs as she began tapping the poor dwarf on the top of his head with her talon only to get more excited to find it made a pretty ringing sound each time she tapped it. Mugs upon witnessing this couldn’t be left out. Soon both dragons were flanking the dwarf giggling and taking turns tapping him on what was fortunately for Carrack, a steel helm. Still, dwarves are not known for their patience.

“Cut it out ya wee beasti…” he catches himself before he goes too far and continues after deftly ducking away from the two dragons.

“I mean if you fine younglings could give me a moment. I am quite out of breath. If you would like to play with my helm I would be happy to let you see it.”

As he says this he slowly removes the helm from his head extending it out to the dragons, also exposing his bald, pink skull. Upon seeing this the two dragons jump away from him hissing, eyes wide in fear. Bugs, while obviously afraid, moves protectively in front of her brother.

“Bugsy, the dwarf to off his head and isn’t dead. It must be that bad magic Mama was telling us about. Make it go away.” Cried Mugs.

“Stay away from my brother Mr. dead dwarf. Mama and Papa will get you if you try to hurt us. Now shoo!” said Bugs

Poor Carrack was dumbfounded by this reaction.

“No, no. I am not dead you silly hatchlings. I am very much alive. This is just a helmet I wear on my head for protection. It is just armor I wear since I do not have the benefit of scales. Either way I am very much alive and have no interest in harming anyone.” He explains while continuing to hold the helm out in front of him so that the young dragons can see it.

Away from the initial scare Bugs’ natural curiosity begins to assert itself again. She begins to examine the helm more closely as does her brother when he realizes it is safe, eager to see what other tricks this new plaything has to offer. Bugs cautiously reaches out to tap the helm again and finds that the now empty helm rings out with a clearer tone to her delight. She is soon playing it like a bell.

Mugs seeing this has no interest in being left out and races past his sister and snatches it out of Carrack’s hand. He then proceeds to begin hitting it against the cave wall causing a loud clanging sound. Carrack winces with each impact and tries to interject over the din of the helm’s impacts, Mugs laughter, and the irritated scolding of Bugs.

“Mugs, stop that. I was playing with that first. Give it back now!” she yelled shrilly.

“Umm… my friends if you could be careful with that please? As I mentioned before it is not actually mine. You see I kinda borrowed it from me brother. Well when I say borrow… So I did not exactly ask before I took it. And besides we do not want to wake your parents, right? That was what you said.” He mentioned, hoping that this might calm the increasing racket coming from the young dragons.

For a moment he believes this is exactly what happens too as both Bugs and Mugs go quiet, looking rather cowed in his direction. But just as he begins to relax he sees a thick, smoke-like mist swirl around his feet and within seconds it hits. Dragon Fear. Carrack is barely able to turn but when he does he finds himself facing off with two enormous red eyes. They do not seem pleased. The last thing he hears before he passes out from the pressure of the dragon fear is Bug’s voice.

“Oh. We can’t play anymore Mr. Dwarf. Mama’s awake.”

Nullus Anxietas

 

A Younger Man’s Game

Standard

” What the hell? Give that back you little thief before I gotta hurt ya.”

I sigh as a tall, gangly man with a scarred face begins yelling at something in the upper corner of the cantina hidden in shadow. The man, who is armed with two nasty looking beam pistols is brandishing a wicked looking knife at the unidentified creature, surrounded by a small group of equally disreputable scum who up until the man’s enraged cry had been playing cards. At his cry the whole cantina became focused on the potential altercation except for one old man sitting on a stool at the bar nursing a shot of something foul and slightly luminescent contemplating a past better left alone. His back is hunched and his long scraggly hair nearly touches the lip of the shot glass as well as obscuring his face. A red bandana is tied around his neck and is tucked under an ill kept beard. He is dressed in a long, faded black duster coat. There is an equally faded black cowboy hat sitting next to him on the bar counter. Leaning next to him is a long, dented metal case. He is an entirely depressing sight to behold. Sadly, the old man is me. My name is William Cash. The commotion does not concern me until I hear the high pitched, sing song reply from the creature in the corner. Damn the luck.

” Bug no thief! Those are Bug’s shinnies! You mean man! Leave Bug alone!”

The creature fires out her retort like a shrill, machine gun. Each word hits me between the eyes. Damn, what is she doing here? I thought I left her behind on the “She’s one of Ours”. the salvage ship which I had until recently been serving on. The name is the Captain’s attempt at subterfuge. She seems to believe it will confuse an enemy. Maybe it could but what do I know? I’m just an old mercenary. Though truthfully I fail to see the humor.

That being said I still am wondering what that little varmint Bug is doing here, several light years away from the ship. You know what? Scratch that. I do know what she’s doing her. She is doing what she does best, get into trouble. As if to prove that point one of the scumbag with the knife’s buddies pulls a pistol and aims it at the corner and fires in the general direction of Bug’s voice. He misses but it causes Bug to fly to a beam over the middle of the room exposing her to view to the distress of the whole cantina.

The cause of the distress is that Bug is a non- human humanoid from deep in uncharted space. There is still quite a bit of xenophobia in the human race ever since the Arathi war some 50 years ago. Even though Bug’s race had nothing to do with it humans just haven’t warmed up to anything outside of the human norm and Bug definitely qualifies as outside the norm.

She stands just under three feet tall and has an almost fey- like essence. She has a long, thick prehensile tail upon which she can balance to make herself look bigger. This she is doing currently. Her arms have natural wings attached at the wrists which allow gliding flight which are currently spread to appear fierce. She wears no clothing but straps designed to hold a myriad of pouches. Though she does have a fine brown fur covering her tough, chitinous skin. The other thing that would catch your eye are the gems. Bug’s people have a strong affinity for gem craft and they always have some placed on their bodies. Which was odd since Bug’s gems weren’t in their usual places but were being held in her hand-like feet. Which brings us back to the scums accusation.

” Give those gems back you freak before we have to get nasty.” The scum yells to Bug with a leer.

(to be continued)

Nullus Anxietas