"Lord Jaxom" utters the Weyrleader of Fort, N'ton, with a bit too much formality, "Lioth tells me that you and Ruth have encountered a rider from 300,000 turns in the future." The other dragon growl suspiciously around you and Drak, their riders glaring with a trained eye.
"That is correct N'ton!! By the shells this rider carries these devices he calls guns, has wings just like his dragon's sprouting from his back, and a dragon that does not need firestone to breathe fire!!" he shouts, pointing almost in a panic-striken way. N'ton and the others stand frozen as if they hadn't heard a single word he said.
"It's true you know, Jax isn't lying" you admit, relaxing your back muscles and thus confirming the young Ruathan lord's account. Drak breathed out another plumb of smoke from his nostrils. The riders utter soft whispers to one another, no doubt about you.
"W-what is your name rider and where do you come from?" asks the Fort Weyrleader, trembling somewhat. "I'm G'jar from Angelos Weyr in Draconia, rider of green Drakanth. The reason I came is that my country is under attack by a race of beings called 'hominids,' bent on destroying all human and dragon-kind with their mechanized armies." you explain.
"Mechanized?" N'ton jabbers at the unfamiliar word. "You mean you use machines to make war?"
Gil, do you really think it would be a good idea to explain at this time? Drak warns. "That is correct, these hominids are capable of causing more destruction than thread can" you confirm. "More destruction than thread?" Jaxom gasped.
"Not to sound like an Oldtimer or anything, but I cannot imagine anything being more destructive than thread" N'ton replied. You are instantly reminded of the day the Mylandians dropped an atom-bomb and instantly destroyed a weyr, along with nearly all its inhabitants. The tragedy still rankled in your heart.
"With these guns G'jar is carrying now I can imagine devices more destructive than thread" Jaxom admitted. "Guns you say? You are to disarm now and hand over your weapons so we can place them under further inspection" N'ton cried.
Shrugging, you open your vest and pull out no fewer than two MP's, a pump-action shotgun, an assault rifle, frag greandes and tons of magazines of ammo from your vest, Drak's traveling case carrying a RPG launcher, 55-caliber machineguns, co-wing 30 mm cannon, and other heavy weaponry. Gil, do you think we overpacked for this trip? Drak wonders, dissatisfied at being searched by the other riders.
"Probably," you respond, as another rider infatuates himself with your wings. When N'ton's wing is done searching you, they can only gape with fear. "G'jar, I think we need to take you into Fort weyr so you can explain yourself better" N'ton says.
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