Dracopical Isles: Rise of the Underground

Chapter 8

A sharp pang in the side like a pinch causes Cigoura to yelp. Soon following, his muscles begin to sag and his breathing slows down to heavy puffs.
"Sir! No!" Is the last thing the elder Alchemy hears before he is overtaken with sleep.
His fellow troops proceed to gnaw and claw at the tree branch holding the net, now just reaching the sweet and healthy core fibers of the halfway point. The branch starts to snap and pop as it is overwhelmed by the weight of the Alchemies and its weakening hold on the tree. Puffs of firebreath eat away at what's left of the branch's hold and with a loud SNAP!! Cigoura hits the ground with a thud, followed by the leafy appendage. Thinking fast, the Alchemies that had been perched on said branch unwrap their wings and harmlessly circle around to the ground. Another dart, however, comes soaring fast into another Alchemy, forcing him too to drop within seconds. It is immediately followed by another, and a third, and a fourth - seemingly to try and take down as many as possible.
Others quickly try to drag Cigoura away by the net as the rest of their ring is picked off one by one. Unfortunately for them, the humans are hidden. Even for their dragon senses, the enemy remains invisible - armed with magic-resistant armor, they've come prepared. The only option for the dragons at the time is to flee.
Two manage to escape, along with their unconscious leader. The remaining five lie in tranquilized states around the clearing - now completely defenseless to their captors.
"Curses, we missed a few!" A frustrated voice speaks from the shadows.
Rustling foliage welcomes a trio of armed hunters into the scene - two in black cloaks and one in brown. A sneer huffs from under the hood of the lead man. 
"Let them go. Five is plenty." He says. "Though I am a wee bit disappointed.." Approaching one of the Alchemies, he kneels down to pluck the dart free from its scales. Afterwards, he rests a hand on its flank, sweeping his palm over the shimmering flesh. "Good-sized trophy here." He nods. Though he had not expected to catch an Alchemy dragon, he can be happy with five solid trophies.
The other two men follow suit and pluck more darts from the other Alchemies. In such a deep unconsciousness, the dragons are completely oblivious to every action of the hunters. Not even a shout or a kick is enough to break the sleep.
"Honz," The leader calls to one of his two men. "Fetch us the carriage, would you?"
The man with the orders does not hesitate to comply. "Yes, Sir Allister." Then jogs off back into the woods.
Removing his hood, Allister then pauses a moment to look around. Stains of blood and fragments of dragon flesh seem to decorate the grass just mere yards away from where they shot down the Alchemies. A few even have pieces tucked in their wing hoods. Standing up to approach the bloody remains, it would appear that Allister and his crew had just barely missed something. The blood still sparkles fresh in the sunlight, and already, flies are beginning to busy themselves amongst the gore. Upon crouching down to get a better look at these remains, Allister is somewhat puzzled - these belong to another Alchemy dragon. 
By now, it is a well-known fact that Alchemy dragons do not typically attack each other. When they do, however, it's rare but not completely explained why. 
Without a doubt, some sort of fight occurred here - nothing else would result in this much gore, would it?
"Find something, Sir?" The voice of his remaining comrade speaks upon noticing Allister's shift in attention. 
Without gazing round to return his glance, Allister replies with a steady and rather intrigued tone, "It would appear that we've arrived a bit late. The fresh remains of a fight lie bare in the grass over here." 
Not only does this hint of events come as interesting to Allister, it isn't the only thing to catch his eye. Dragon footprints, very lightly imprinted in the dirt, accompany the scene only a few feet away. Scooting a bit closer, Allister can identify distinguishing features - long, widespread toes pointed with thin, sharp claws and apparent soles in the center appearing similar to a human hand are joined with another pair with a longer, more oval-like base. It looks like a set of front feet and back feet. 
The anatomy can't fit the footprints of an Alchemy dragon - their toes are short and claws much bigger in comparison. That and their front and back feet are rather similar-looking. 
Off the top of his head, Allister can think of one breed that matches these prints - a Sorcerant. They use their more human-like feet to brew their potions, use tools, to read, and to write. This paired up with their high intelligence makes him a highly versatile dragon. In fact, some say they're amongst the most intelligent of dragons. Alchemy dragons can do this too, but not as effectively. Instead, they rely more on symbols, sketches, the merging of base elements, and their natural magic abilities to achieve stuff.
The very first assumption to come to Allister upon recognizing these tracks is that green, male Sorcerant. It may or may not have been him, but it excites Allister a bit to think about; however, it also disappoints him that much more. If he had been just a moment or two earlier, he may have been able to catch a glimpse of that rare dragon. As for the Alchemy dragon that was torn up, there are no other signs to tell what happened to it or where it had gone. As far as Allister is aware of, none of the dragons swarming the net, or even the one held inside, looked even remotely close to injured - or at least to the degree of leaving behind that much blood and skin. Perhaps it got away, or maybe the Sorcerant took it - either way, it's no longer around.
"Suppose we got lucky, Sir?" His remaining comrade speaks, removing the last dart from the fifth dragon. "Think the fight loosened them up? Easier to handle?"
Allister huffs with an amused breath. He shakes his head. "I'd say the tussle was so minute it only affected one of them - and the wounded one is gone. At best, the darts should keep ours quiet for a day or two."
Soon following, the steady sounds of approaching wheels and hooves join the scene. Sat within the driver's cubby directing two tawny horses, Honz returns with the requested carriage.
One by one, Allister and his men load the unconscious dragon trophies onto the bed. For one or two, it takes a couple of them to hoist it aboard. All five are confirmed to be male and in decent condition after checking. Though it's probably to be expected as an Alchemy ring is often consisted of members that are all of the same sex. The dragons are tied down and muzzled before being carried away in the horse-drawn carriage. Allister, however, takes a moment to stay behind. He walks back over to the Sorcerant footprints for further inspection. Upon measuring the footprints with a piece of string, it is pretty accurate to assume that this Sorcerant was an adult male. It had to have flown in, as the tracks begin just a few hundred yards away in the woods. Same as it had probably flown away as well - no further trails continue from the clearing. It isn't much to take note of, but with such an interesting dragon out there, Allister doesn't hesitate to inspect all that he can.