Finally got the majority of this story finished. It's not concluded however as all become clear in the final story.
THE OLD MAN.
This aged man arrived in Altdorf a month prior to the defeat of the Empire army at Heffengen.
He was a gentle soul, always polite and genial. His hair gray and thinning on top, a beard of the same colour long, but well tended. Skin that was creased and worn with age, a warming smile and wise eyes. He looked like every child’s favourite grandpa or the father you turned to in a time of need.
He was often seen around the Imperial Palace area, and would talk quiet frequently with the guards or in Karl Franz Park where he would pass the time of day with the gardeners. More regular he was seen in the Menagerie, where he was known on site by all the keepers as just an old man who over the years seemed to have gained knowledge of many animals.
It was also at the Menagerie where the young lad worked. To start with he used to sneak in to see the wondrous animals and be chased off by the warders, but after a while some of the keepers accepted the youth and he began helping out with cleaning and feeding. He loved to hear the noises from the very dangerous animals in the large building, but was always to scared to enter their area.
He had seen the Emperors arrive and leave on his mighty War Griffin.
Unbeknownst to the youth, the old man kept a watchful eye on him, but always avoided contact.
Both old man and youth survived the assault of the Glottkin’s Chaos army and the following two years of siege from the Skaven. It was in the latter stages of the siege as food began to run short, that many of the animals from the menagerie were slain for food, but not the griffins or dragon.
When plans to abandon Altdorf where made, the demigryph, war griffins and pegasus that could be ridden, were taken away for use. Those griffins/pegasus that couldn’t be ridden, were set free and chased away from the city by Deathclaw. But somehow plans for the Dragons fate were overlooked.
With all the noise created by Gregor Martak and Valten’s volunteer army breaking out of the cities northern gate and the rest of the city deserted as the Emperor led the remaining populous through the Western gate. The youth was still at the menagerie, they had forgotten the Dragon and although he was scared, he was more concerned what those walking rats would do to the trapped Dragon.
At the first sighting of the rodents his fears faded, and he squeezed through the mighty doors. The Dragon had already stirred and low rumblings can from his enclosure. Dragging a bale of hay over to the door he tried with all his strength to open one of the latches, but all in vain.
Then the large doors were thrown open wide. The youth know his time had come and would be torn to pieces by the Skaven.
“Come on lad no time to waste.” said the old man as he entered
At the sound of his voice the dragon began to bellow, the old man grabbed a ladder and quickly undid the top most latches. As the youth helped with the last latch, he looked behind him. The yards was awash with the skaven. The dragons head bashed to heavy door aside, causing both youth and old man to fall. The dragon turned its wicked head towards them, steam bellowing from it’s nostrils.
“Not us Krakanrok.” shouted the old man. “THEM you old fool,” pointing towards the skaven.
The Dragon leapt skyward with to joy of flight once more. The heat from it’s flames felt by both inside the stable house. Once all had gone quiet the old man and youth ventured out. There were piles of small charred bones everywhere, and circling high in the distance, the dragon.
The old man took out a small wooden whistle and blow hard. The youth heard nothing, the dragon turned it head towards them but kept circling. The man blow again, this time the dragon returned but perched high on the remaining roof of the Imperial Palace. The man blow once more long and hard, pointing to the yard in front of them.
Slowly the dragon swooped down coming to rest in the yard. He did not look happy the youth thought slightly putting the old man between himself and the dragon.
“Funny how the memory seems to make things easier.” the old man said more to himself. “Well go on lad get on the dragon.” he continued.
After allot of coaxing and soothing of both youth and dragon, all three were finally aloof. Although they kept their distance, somehow the old man kept the dragon watching the Emperor’s refugee column towards Aveheim. The youth asked once how he controlled the dragon, replying he said that no-one controlled a dragon and that they talked. But I’ve never hear either of you speak. In you head lad, have you not heard him. Something else we have to work on before I leave.
After Aveheim, the three retreated into the Grey Mountains, where they remained for some time. Finally the old man said it was time to take his leave, by that time the dragon and youth were able to communicate, but their bond was not yet complete, that they would have to master themselves over the many, many years to come. The old man asked one last favour, that the take him to a peak in the Misty Hills. After saying their farewells the old man gave the youth the dragon whistle.
" This will enable you to call the dragon when you are many leagues apart, but you must promise me that you will also make one of your own. You will know when the time is right and who to give it to." And so they parted, the old man knowing he would see the dragon his friend one last time in this world.
Next to come is the story of a god.
