Herrik had finished his training a dragon rider almost eighteen years ago, and he and his elegant bronze dragon had been on a dozen missions for the dragon riders. Diplomatic affairs for the most part, backing the silhouette of dragon wings high in the sky with a friendly smile and eloquence in the banquet hall. This hadn't leavened him with much combat experience, but the council felt that he would provide valuable support to the powerful Jasper, whose inexperience might lead her to hot-headedness. If there was a diplomatic solution that would bring the dark ruler back into line, she could choose to cede the fore to him - but at the end of the day it was Jasper's mission, and he was only there in support.<br/><br/>The ginger-haired man's curly locks were broken by bone-white horns that curved up and inwards almost four inches, growing fractionally every year. His heavy black dragon armour matched Jasper's, though truthfully he was more comfortable in a fine doublet and hose; both of which were packed in his saddlebags high on his dragon's flanks. His dragon - one might as well call Herrik Merddyth's human, they were a partnership of intelligent equals. It just so happened that only one of them could make themselves understood by society in general. Although that came with an expectation to wear clothes that rarely failed to entertain the metallic-scaled creature.<br/><br/>"Are you alright up there, old thing? I'd hate to think a few small saddlebags were enough to get the Great Merddyth acting like an aggrieved pack mule," he teased.<br/><br/>Merddyth lifted his head and stared at Herrik, tawny green eyes swirling. ++<i>The bags <b>are</b> nothing</i>++, he stated with dignity. ++<i>I could carry every one of those colourful trappings you insist on festooning yourself with without missing a wing-beat. Though if you're right and I am getting old, perhaps I should drop off some unnecessary baggage. Like a certain mouthy two-leg, what was his name...</i>++<br/><br/>Herrik chuckled and gave the dragon a friendly buffet to the shoulder as they walked together to the flight platform and he swung himself into the saddle with an easy grace. Turning to the dark-armoured woman, he met her amber eyes with his own forest-green orbs and nodded a friendly greeting, "Lady Jasper." Being chosen by a dragon automatically elevated the rider to nobility, a prerequisite for dealing with the rulers around the land as well as a token for the honour of being chosen as worthy. "Are you ready to take wing?"<br/><br/>It was six days as the dragon flew to the borders of Dhalo. Another day and a half to the ruling seat, where Queen Sabrienne had taken the throne after her father's death - and without her friend by her side. How could she have changed so much from the eager girl who'd nagged at her bodyguard for sword training? And how 'dark' could she be really?