...I slid and rolled until I collided with what turned out to be a massive pile of gold, gems, and other medieval-age rich-people stuff. Talk about cliché.

"Honestly, I half expected you to put up more of a fight when I captured you," the dragoness commented, pausing as she dragged the Manticore carcass further into the cave. "That's what I get for finding such an unusual specimen. I've never seen, heard of, or smelled the likes of you before. Not that it matters: you'll do just fine for my purposes."

"Seriously, I only just showed up here, like, an hour ago, and I have no idea where I even am! Hell, far as I know, you and that Manticore shouldn't exist! I mean, I'm obviously not in Kansas anymore, but still!"

"Spare me the tall tales," the dragoness told me, her tone dismissive as she rolled her eyes with great exaggeration. "Now, prepare yourself: if you're lucky, in mere moments, the only thing you'll be feeling is oblivion."

"That, or disappointment." I replied, grabbing a handful of the priceless stash behind me. "Go ahead: flip that coin. Speaking of which...!" I hurled the handful of coins and other glittery debris in the direction of her face. She instinctively recoiled as some of the stuff bounced harmlessly off her snout, which gave me enough time to scramble onto the pile of treasure. I nabbed the hilt of a sword from the pile and yanked the whole thing up in a shower of valuables. Giving it a few brief test flourishes, I readied myself for the fight of my life.

"A foolish effort," the dragoness told me. "What do you plan to do with my favorite toothpick there; turn me into hors d'oeuvre?"

"I'll have you know, I'm one-eighth Norwegian...!" I said. "My ancestors were slaying dragons mightier than you in their sleep, back in the day...!" Blatant lies, those were, but she didn't know that.

"I thought you implied my kind didn't exist in... I believe you called your homeland 'Kansas,' yes?" The dragoness asked, creeping slowly forward with a malicious grin on her snout. She obviously believed she'd caught me in a lie, though I could only hope it was not the one I was currently feeding her. "If so, then how could your ancestors have done as you claim?"

"There used to be dragons," I explained, "but not anymore. It's been generations since anyone's seen a real, live dragon. Closest anyone gets would be going to see some of the bones we've got on display in some of our museums."

"Bastards!"

I never had a chance to react as she suddenly spun and slammed me with her tail, which sent me flying across the cave to slam into a wall. I may have blacked out for a couple seconds after the impact.

"Ya fookin' wot, mate?" I demanded in my best imitation-British accent, and stood up as my vision cleared. "I'll fookin' fight ya, ya daft cunt!"

I was immediately slammed against the wall again, held in place by one of the dragoness' giant claws as the sword clattered from my hands.

"I'm sorry," the dragoness said, with evident sarcasm and scorn, "I don't think I heard you over the smell of my people's blood on your hands. Care to repeat that for me?"

"Punish not the child for the sins of the fath--hrk!!" I was cut off mid sentence as she pressed hard on my torso.

"Oh, sorry, still didn't catch that. Care to try again...?"

"Do not... meddle... in the affairs of dragons..." I gasped, head drooping from the pain, "for you are crunchy, and... and good with ketchup."

"Better." The dragoness said, then looked to one side. There was the sound of fluid-filled glassware being abruptly -- and violently -- shifted into motion, and a stoppered Erlenmeyer flask arced into view. With a surprising deftness, the dragoness caught the fragile glass container and popped the cork out of the flask's neck.

"Wait...!" I gasped, holding out a hand. "Before you, uh, do whatever you're about to do... What's your name?"

The dragoness, with the flask already halfway to her lengthy snout, paused. With a curious eyebrow raised, she turned to impale me with her gaze. "Why do you care...?"

"I'd rather know your name, if I'm about to die or whatever, than go out in ignorance."

"Hah, little late for that...!" She snorted. "Fine. It's Gilraea. Happy?"

"Mmm. Good to hear it at least starts with a 'G'. At least some people's parents stick to the old ways..."

"What do you--" Gilraea stopped, blinked, then squinted at me. "You're stalling, aren't you...?"

"Not by intent," I admitted, "but, to be fair, it's only natural."

There was a brief pause, and then Gilraea spoke once more.

"Alright, then," she said, "since I let you ask me a question, I have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Die."

"Wait, that's not a ques--" I got no further before she slammed back the contents of the flask and exhaled some sort of thick, viscous gas all over me. I coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe, but I could feel myself fading fast. Faster than should have been possible.

"That's because I don't make requests," I heard Gilraea say, and then everything went dark...

Infinity's Edge

Author's Note

the first in a series of little side scenes, this one in particular is a way of shouting out that "hey, someone else is writing a story within the same AU as me"

Me and Caldoric have been pretty close in our discussions of this AU and were I want things to go, so much so I'd consider him a co-creator of the Unity-Duty-Destiny-Harmony AU, and his story will cover "the other side" of events.

So go show him and his story some love