That is Not a Dragon

"Nice fight buddy. I'll see you again tomorrow." I waved goodbye as the Stormveil Crucible Knight picked himself up off the ground and walked off to get the sword my disarming technique sent flying earlier.

He was getting better every day. Almost even fun.

After returning from my epic quest with Sir Stanley and Lasky at the head of my new calvary platoon, I learned of a recently discovered secret squatter hanging out on the cliffs just below my castle walls. One of Elden Lord Godfrey's sixteen companions, a Crucible Knight.

I fought with the man each day since my return, and though he presented no real challenge to my skills, he did pack a series of unique magical abilities of the Incantation variety. I have yet to figure out the difference between Sorceries and Incantations as both categories invoke or possibly steal power from external sources. As far as I can tell the only real difference is that Sorceries are focused via staves and Incantations through seals.

My investigations for such occurred in my burgeoning workshop, a place of both study and production as I used the more lean pickings of the current castle forge to create a greater set of tools for my use.

After all, the local smithing stones aren't the only way to increase the quality of a weapon, and I was quite excited to see how the wondrous objects interacted with a true masterwork. I also wanted to learn why the resource could increase the power of metal, bone, wood, leather, and even hair so long as it was in weapon format, but not interact with armor. None of Garm's nor Godrick's memories ever indicated the possibility.

Truly this world offered me many mysteries to look into.

The first of those to fall was the ethereal burning orange seal that formed in my hand. It showed an icon of Ormagoden's head as he appeared in the visions cast by the unbound Artifacts of Legend in the Brutal Lands. While holding this Sacred Seal I could cast Incantations I discovered in my travels. I'd already worked my way though recreating those performed by my pal Crucy, a series of incantations that conjured aspects of the Primordial Crucible in the forms of rhinoceros style shoulder horns, a very long and supple striking tail, a flame throwing throat pouch, and a pair of angelic wings.

I was quite excited by the last one as the Lands Between are hellishly vertical and traveling as the crow flies cuts back on so much headache.

"Alright, preparing smithing stone armoring experiment number two." I murmured as I went over the notes made from my previous attempt.

A faint shadow appeared in the light cast by the coals of my forge. The obvious raised dagger in the silhouette got me spinning around to land a roundhouse kick to the head of a man in dark leather armor and a black hooded cloak. The sight of the flying man filled my vision with red rage and I grabbed his hood and rammed his head into my anvil over and over until I no longer held a head in my hands, but paste.

The blood rage faded and I considered the man. The first Tarnished I encountered, and I'd made such a mess of him. Obviously he had to die for his audacity, but my anger felt unnaturally easy to inflame. Something to look into another time because right now I have loot!

I came away with quite the win today as the Tarnished possessed a Flask of Crimson Tears and its Cerulean counterpart as well as a Flask of Wondrous Physick and a small collection of crystal tears. He came with a wicked thin dagger and a broadsword as well as a long dark wood crossbow with the symbol of the Confessors on it in silver. Upon his belt hung three Talismans: a Dagger, an Arrow's Sting, and Crepus's Vial. A damn fine set up for an assassin such as this.

"Thanks, fam." I told the man as I dragged him out by his ankle and chucked him at the nearest guard.

I wasn't angry about the breach in security with so much of the castle under renovation and reconstruction. There are simply too many ways for a moderately stealthy person to make it through, let alone an honest to God divine inspired assassin.

Upon my return I wasted another afternoon failing to use smithing stones to upgrade armor, but managed to get a little bit closer to cracking the secret. Leaving my workshop I visited my most interesting pick up from my journey, a young demihuman seamster named Boc. A rather wretched looking monkey human hybrid, but a dab hand at needle work once my boys retrieved his mother's sewing kit from a cave full of his less than cooperative kin.

"Good evening, Boc." I greeted, starting the diminutive man.

"Oh! My Lord, almost put my heart to stopping." Boc heaved as he calmed himself down.

"Is it ready?" I asked of the man who nodded his monkey snouted head.

"Yes sir. The wool cloaks are ready for you and your horse." Boc answered, "And I took the liberty to gather the Fire Proof Dried Livers and the Holy Grease for your sword."

Bock pulled out two jars for me, along with a hooded red wool cloak.

"Are you truly going after the flying dragon, my lord. To take it's heart and participate in Dragon Communion?" when I nodded he continued, "Are you not afraid of the possible outcome of such unnatural ritual? You could become a wyrm."

"Ah yes, the magma wyrms." I grinned and patted the monkey man on his head, "I've no fear of it."

"Of course. A powerful Lord such as yourself would never be diminished by such things. Please forgive me for my doubt, Lord." Boc begged with his upturned hand raised.

I slid my fingers over it and told him, "You are forgiven."

In truth turning into a giant fire breathing lizard would simply be a return to form for me. It's this human body that feels so unnatural. As such I'd hunt down all the possible dragons and wyrms and consume their hearts in Dragon Communion.

The next morning I rose, donned my armor and took up my weapons, readied my horse and cloaked us both in thick wool to protect us from fire. The jars Boc gathered hung in a hard case, and together with Sir Stanley and my mounted Kaiden forces we descended Stormhill and traveled east across Limgrave to the Agheel Lake. Though it was more like the Agheel pond or marsh as the water was only knee deep at the most, though the lakebed was more than hard enough for the horses to travel with no issue.

After clearing the Dragon Burnt Ruins I signaled the men to hold tight as to our north a gathering of the near graceless zombies waited by a bonfire in the marsh and Agheel answered their summon by plowing into them from the sky.

Argent and I ate our livers and I wiped my sword in the Holy Grease, giving it a sacred golden glow. We charged the wyvern which unleashed a gout of flame we avoided by traveling around it, and then I realized something terrible.

These wyverns in the lands between must be incredibly hard of hearing because Agheel allowed me to ride right around its attack and carve a great rent in its feathered wing. Then I rode around its painfully slow melee attacks and slashed the other wing, removing the Flying from its title.

As I rode and slashed the dragon I realized that all my preparation had been pointless. The beast was slow in body and reaction. Finally, before boredom could turn to laxness, I stood on Argent's saddle and leapt off his back forming a pair of golden wings of light on my back as I flew into the air and dive bombed Agheel's head, cutting through his flame with such speed that it failed to transfer much heat and I drove my sword into his eye to the hilt, twisting it and pulling it out with a kick off that landed me ankle deep in the 'Lake'.

The wyvern fell and my men cheered as they approached, but I felt no joy at this kill. More disappointment that this pathetic beast somehow made it this long in the world.

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Ah Agheel. A welcome to From Soft boss you were not. You do have the honor of being slightly better than a Skyrim Dragon. But that is all you were, a slightly better Skyrim Dragon. Honestly the dragon fights were pretty shit outside of Adula, the rot one, the two actual dragons, and then the dragon lord. The last of which felt hardly fair but was an ultimate spectacle for sure.

You should just shout 'Begone Thot' while blasting them with comet azure and feel no shame as most of the dragon fights have absolutely no moments of awesome.

The magma wyrm fights were pretty good though. I like them more. Makar especially was nice so long as you aren't over leveled and destroy him.

Overall the Dragon's felt very meh. Like they got very little love from the devs. Their incantations were very wasteful too for what you get. If I am going to sink that much FP I deserve something that actually feels like a dragon breathing fire on my enemies. Greyoll's Roar is clutch as hell though. So is the claw strike one.

We'll see how Garm messes with them.

For those of you unfamiliar with the series Garm is a side story continuation of Ultimate Krogan, and by this point in his character growth as a warrior and mage he is basically a man shaped sharingan. He'll train to build his physique and to instill muscle memory, but don't expect long training arcs.

He is without a doubt the most skilled being in the setting, with only Gold Mask surpassing him in any field. Garm can't generate an ending just by T Posing. He is based as hell, but no one is as based as Gold Mask.

It's been a long road to get here though and you can read that in Mass Effect SI: Ultimate Krogan.

Lastly, Garm will encounter all of the starting classes in his travels. We will see which ones pan out as enemies, which as minions, allies, respected rivals. Which one will be eating lots of prawns and crab. Should be fun.

You can also support me and my family at

ko - fi . com / jmanm