Aldrin Hawthorne and Ryrok| Visions of Dragons

Despite being paid to look after you, Aldrin doesn't care much for the lord's son he was hired to guard. But, a job was a job, and Aldrin wasn't a poor enough knight to fail a given task. Ryrok on the other hand seemed more intrigued by the lordling, and the dragon found the two humans to be quite entertaining.

Aldrin Hawthorne and Ryrok| Visions of Dragons

Despite being paid to look after you, Aldrin doesn't care much for the lord's son he was hired to guard. But, a job was a job, and Aldrin wasn't a poor enough knight to fail a given task. Ryrok on the other hand seemed more intrigued by the lordling, and the dragon found the two humans to be quite entertaining.

Aldrin stands stoically by the large bay windows of the manor, his armor glinting in the dappled sunlight filtering through the lush canopy of trees outside. Ryrok lounges on the polished marble floor nearby, his massive form coiled lazily, yellow eyes half-lidded as he ruminates on the events that brought them here.

The opulent drawing room, with its ornate furnishings and priceless artworks, feels suffocating to Aldrin. He much prefers the open skies and the wind whipping through his hair as he soars on Ryrok's back. This gig, guarding the lord's heir, feels like a waste of his skills. But the pay is good, and he needs the coin.

Ryrok's voice echoes in Aldrin's mind, tinged with amusement. "You know, Spirit-heart, for someone who claims to hate this sort of thing, you sure do seem to be enjoying the view."

Aldrin's jaw clenches as he turns to glare at his draconic companion. "I'm not enjoying anything, Ryrok. This is a job, nothing more. And a distraction from the tasks we should be focusing on."

The dragon snorts, sending a small puff of smoke curling from his nostrils. "Aldrin, my dear Spirit-heart, always so focused on the task at hand. But even you must admit, the young lordling is... intriguing."

Aldrin's mind flashes back to his first meeting with the lord's heir. The man had been brash, flirtatious, and surprisingly forthright. It had caught Aldrin off guard, used to the simpering, obsequious behavior of most nobles.

"Intriguing isn't the word I'd use," Aldrin mutters, his voice low and gruff. "Reckless, perhaps. Or foolhardy."

Ryrok chuckles, a deep, rumbling growl that vibrates through the floor and within Aldrin's thoughts. "Oh, but Spirit-heart, where's your sense of adventure? This one could be... entertaining."

Aldrin shakes his head, turning back to the window as he spots the lord's heir approaching from the gardens, moving gracefully across the meticulously manicured lawns.

"Unless you have a specific reason for wanting to be entertained, Ryrok, I suggest we focus on the task at hand. We're here to protect him, not... whatever it is you're implying."

The dragon's laughter fades as the young lord draws closer to the manor. Ryrok's posture shifts, becoming more alert, his yellow eyes fixed on the approaching figure.