Thread: The Dragon Mother (Chanti and AnonymousRelated)

The world was filled with mysteries and with treasures buried deep into the unknown. More often than not, these treasures were buried for a reason. They had power, or pull over the forces of nature or even mankind itself and these treasures would fall into the wrong hands. The greedy inherently had money, and in the modern day and age, money equated power. Atlantis disappeared for reasons that no one alive really knows, but that doesn't mean that it's gone. Just like an ancient city dedicated to an entity and it's descendants, it had been buried but not by natural events of sandstorms. It was buried because the secrets it held were never to come to life again, these secrets were something that could and would change the face of the Earth forever. And should they be released, mankind would suffer a blow unlike anything it's ever been through prior. It had been hundreds of years since the temple was buried, but it had been even longer since it was sealed up. Before it had been sealed, the temple was populated not just by scaled beasts that stood fifteen or more feet tall. It was cleaned, maintained, and expanded by a precursor to the humans that walked the Earth now. Though these humans didn't have the same biological makeup as the modern man did, they were better adapted for dealing with and living with dragons. Their lungs could sustain their bodies at the high altitudes that dragons sometimes flew at, their cellular structure didn't decay as fast as humans did. Not to mention they could understand the language of dragons, and what was more they could speak it, somewhat. These people had all died out, all but one. Mongolia was as it seemed, a third world country by most standards. It was a place where people had to earn their living by working hard and hardly playing. Though there was some lavish and wealthy people that lived in the densest city, Ulaanbaatar. Here a person could find almost anything they wanted to so long as they had the money. The best money was made by offering a service that the wealthy wanted, and the best service that a person could offer the wealthy was entertainment. The people of Mongolia were, by all means, raised around violence. Thus violence was normalcy, and through this mindset underground fighting rings were a very common occurrence. The wealthy would come here to place bets, but more importantly to watch someone leave the 'ring' on a stretcher. These fights were no-holds barred and the only rule that was followed, was that you couldn't kill your opponent on purpose. Though death happened here in these underground fights, and the fighters that died disappeared forever. In one of these underground arenas, a fight was currently being held. On one side of the fight you had a man who stood nearly seven and a half feet tall, weighing in at nearly six hundred pounds. His appearance was very similar to that of a sumo wrestler you would find in Japan, but he was certainly not following the traditions or rules of sumo. On the other side of the fight you had someone of a much less imposing stature. He stood six feet four inches tall, weighed just over one hundred and seventy pounds. He had dark brown hair that was slicked back with grease in order to keep his hair from his eyes, the man wore knee length crimson colored shorts that had no pockets, nothing that anyone could get a hold of except the fabric. He was shirtless and it showed off his very incredibly toned body. His abs were ripped, his skin was a golden brown from time spent in the sun. It was clear that he wasn't from Mongolia, he wasn't of oriental descent. His appearance was more Russian than anything. The most notable thing about this man was the tattoo that ran up his body and down his right arm. It was a very long tattoo of a dragon, the dragon was multicolored and had six limbs. The head of the dragon was on his right hand, the mouth appearing to engulf his fist with it's wide open maw. Heavy footsteps stomped towards the male, who opened his emerald colored eyes and looked at the massive bald fat man charging him. But before he could do anything there was a sensation that made him freeze. This man was the last guard of the city of dragons, he was hundreds of years old, but didn't look a day older than thirty. He could feel the city being opened, being the person who had sealed the last of the dragons into the city, it was his responsibility to keep anyone and everyone out. But it had become buried so his duty was over, or so he thought. His mind was brought back to the fight as a massive fist, the size of his face smashed into the side of his head and sent him spinning through the air. Splaying out onto the ground, the muscular fighter gathered his arms and legs underneath of him as he began to rise to his feet. OH! AND THE EXECUTIONER LANDS A MASSIVE RIGHT HOOK ONTO THE CHALLENGER! the announcer called out right as the big fat man who was known as 'The Executioner' came up and stomped the defined fighter down to the ground. IT LOOKS LIKE THIS COULD BE ALL FOLKS! THE END WE ALL EXPECTED! Laying, face down on the hard concrete surface the brown haired, tan fighter breathed heavily. He knew that he had to end this, and he had to stop whoever or whatever had opened the city from taking anything out. Little did he know that it would already be too late for that. Nevertheless, he pushed his gloved palms flat against the ground and pushed up, leaving a small pool of blood from his mouth where he laid. The Executioner tried to push him back down by stomping on his back, but it failed. And as he raised his foot to try and stomp once more, the tattooed fighter spun around between the large man's legs. Getting to his feet he jumped up and kicked the man in the back with both feet as hard as he could. This sent The Executioner tumbling forward, and before he could get up he was delivered a very hard and very fast elbow drop to the base of his skull, right where his spine connected to his head. A single cough came from the man's body as a spurt of blood shot from both his nose and his mouth, and his eyes rolled backwards in his head. OH MY! WHAT AN UPSET! THE CHALLENGER HAS TAKEN OUT THE EXECUTIONER IN TWO HITS! the announcer screamed through the mic. Two beautiful women wearing scantly clad bikinis came up and one held his hands up in the air while the other wrapped a belt around his waist. Before he wasted any more time, the man pulled his hands away from the female and took off from the ring. He ran to the steps and left before he could even claim his prize. Though he knew he didn't need it simply because there were bigger fishes to fry right now. The next day. Emerald eyes peered through a set of binoculars, he had traveled all day and night in order to get to the place where the city had been buried. And to his amazement, as well his horror it was very uncovered. It reminded him of how it looked in all it's glory and splendor before it had to be buried, he could still see the dragons circling above the apex of the city in his mind. Morning was rising, and it made it easier for him to move undetected. People were not yet fully alert, and that left room for error. He had long since abandoned any sort of title or name as it was irrelevant, he as far as he was concerned, was a ghost. A specter of the past, simply forced to exist within the present. It wasn't until a shrill scream sounded out that he had any idea of there being any chance of them having found a live dragon. The scream was followed by a screech that was certainly from a dragon fledgling. He swallowed hard as he watched from afar as men swarmed around a single tent. There was a man who looked American that went into the tent, and everything fell silent. Watching, and waiting there was no more movement, no more screams or screeches. All was calm and still, which was certainly disconcerting for him. If there was a dragon on the surface of the Earth again, that spelled disaster. But it also meant that he had a duty to fulfill, and there was no way he would allow them to take the dragon fledgling, not without him putting up a fight. Tossing the binoculars behind him, the male took off down the sandy slope he had been laying on. He had changed from his fighting gear and was wearing desert based camouflage, on his right hip was an SV Infinity .45 caliber sidearm. Something he had picked up from his time spent as a special forces member for the United States military. He wore military grade boots, and had a small pack on his back the pack had a small hose that came from within and was pinned down to his shoulder. The end of the hose would open when bit down on, and if you created suction with your mouth you'd get water, they called it a camel-pack. Moving carefully and quietly, he used the distraction from the scream in order to sneak around the campsite. Getting within earshot of the tent where he had seen the American looking male enter, he crawled on his stomach in order to avoid detection. Laying behind the tent, directly behind the cot that the female was on he waited and listened. Using a breathing technique he'd learned in the military he slowed his heart rate in order to allow his ears no distraction from himself. He needed to be certain that there was a dragon, because if there was, he was the only one suited to care for it. Or so he thought.