One last displaced post

This is the last of my time displaced posts that will be available for a limited time. Read it while it's hot off the presses.

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Alone again. I'm surprised the lifealope traveled so far into the ashlands with me. I followed me for a few days before deciding to head southwest. No one likes to come even a few miles into the ash much less hundreds of miles.

The stillness and emptiness, just the ash, occasional cooling floes of lava, buried cities and  the occasional dragon. I'm surprised this tablet can reach the satellite network through the clouds of ash and smoke from yellowstone, then again the technomancers can make "miracles" happen. Though I'm more surprised the satellites even function with no maintenance since the war. According to the satellites it's supposed to be sometime in the afternoon. But from the clouds obscuring the sun and the ever-present glow to the northwest in the caldera it's impossible to tell what time it is. It's not like the first few months after the bombs fell though, now to keep from breathing in the ash I can get by with just a shemagh or balaclava with a couple cantrips woven into it to keep it clean without the need to wash it out.

When we first climbed out of the bunker in the shattered mountains of Wyoming, the ash was so thick and heavy on the air it was almost a fog. Not only did we need armored mopp gear from how sharp some of the airborne particles were having at least three layers of filters on the respirators was the best. Some loose weave cotton cloth but not loose like burlap, something a bit finer, and then the mask filters themselves. We learned quickly, suffocated, or worse.  Our rapid grasp of the wild magic that had been unleashed on the world certainly helped. Eivan was the first to truly "understand" the changes going on not only in the world around us but within us. His experiences in the Ukraine certainly helped him have a stronger grip on reality, and in all honesty we likely would have died if it were not for him. Not to the ash but the dragons.

Not many people make it back from the depths of the ashlands. Even the more experienced, or arguably less reckless, stalkers avoid travelling here because of them. We don't know if they came after the apocalypse or were simply sleeping under the earth waiting. They are like the beasts of lore, powerful scaled creatures. Lizardlike with great wings. They can dart through the air like a fish in the water and breath down hellfire at a whim. While they may seem mythic but they are still living creatures. They eat, they breath and most importantly sleep.

Now the question becomes, why have I mentioned these dragons? Well, the closer I get to where Granite Inn is supposed to be, the more dragonsign I see. Melted ash in the form of furrows and wallows alike. That and an ever-present sense of being watched. I thought I saw one out of the corner of my eye, but it moved fast enough I couldn't be sure, however I have my suspicions that my destination is in fact a nest. Now that is troublesome, but at the same time I wonder, just how smart the dragons are.  Perhaps if I employ some tricks of my own and melt a tunnel under the ash and burrow like a badger I'll be a bit safer. Options open up when a person can bring forth fire and ice from their fingertips on a whim, and failing that I can fall back on steel and iron.