<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/lRMz7.png)   <br/></div><strong>Character</strong>: Tragon Talonius (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=68023)<br/><strong>Bio</strong>: https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=219261.msg10788024#msg10788024<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Renrir<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: Brand new boots, polished chain shirt, matching breeches, loose tunic and cloak of deep blue cloth, ornate rapier at his side. Gold-wire spectacles. Starched white ascot. Brimless cap.<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Open<br/><hr/><br/>"Mithral," Tragon breathes to himself. His imagination is taken with thoughts of the nearly mythical metal. A dwarf might labor for his entire life to earn a fist-sized lump of the stuff; a less lucky dwarf might spend all his strength and never see a flake. And father had found a mine, an entire mine. If word of this leaked out, armies would mobilize. Wizards would strike. Dragons, even, perhaps. It was a fabulous treasure, but also an incredible target. If there was ever a definition of a double-edged sword, their mutual inheritance fit the bill.<br/><br/>He is lost enough in his thoughts that Ehren's abrupt entrance startles him into dropping the slab of bread and meat that he'd been absently nibbling. Tragon is quick enough to react to the news, though, and immediately falls in line behind Crassus. "You have my sword as well. Perhaps with luck we'll chip away a bit of brother Edmund's disdain."<br/><br/>Of course there would be horses. Monstrous ones, this time. Tragon considers the options only briefly before clambering onto the back of Jude's mount. "With your permission?" he asks, though he is already perched on the saddle behind her. It's not the climbing on and off; that's no harder than a wall. It's the staying on that's the trick. "I suppose it's time to start earning our keep," he says to his half-sister.<br/>