by Levi Samuel
Sean nodded and turned to face the half-orc. “Krenin, help me get these bags to the wagon. We need to move before that thing finds us.”
Krenin hung his axe from its leather strap and heaved four of the bags at once. He ducked under the low ceiling and waddled toward the cart. A sharp pain erupted in the back of his head. Unable to turn around to see what hit him, another blow connected, dropping him to his knees. The bags spilled out, echoing throughout the chamber. He glanced back, seeing his friend standing behind him with one of the half full bags, ready for another swing. “Why?” The bag collided a third time, busting open against the side of his face. Krenin collapsed to the floor.
“He's down. Help me tie him up before he comes to.”
The others rushed in, securing the half-orc. Dragging him into the treasure room they bound and shackled him against the wall, sinking the spikes deep into the stone.
Another roar echoed through the room, much closer than the first. They froze, unable to move from the fear of what crawled through the opening.
A wispy, serpentine voice surrounded them. “You trespass in the home of Autzumo. You seek to claim my treasures? Tell me why I should allow you to leave here with a single piece.”
“I— I—.” Kelly shuddered over the words, unable to get his thoughts out.
Sean rushed forward, letting fear fuel his words. “We caught this trespasser trying to sneak away with your treasure. Had we not stopped him, he might have made away with a large majority of it. Surely this is worth our freedom and a small amount to claim as our own?”
Autzumo reared his scaly head in laughter. “It took three of you to stop one trespasser? I find that unlikely. Even if he is a half-breed.” His laughter subsided. “But I suppose I can let you have one trinket, for your valiant efforts.”
His wicked scar stretched across his face, contorting into an awkward grin. Feeling eased by the young dragon's words, Sean glanced at the piles around him. Eyes searching for his prize, an odd, black orb, inlaid with golden runes grabbed his attention. He carefully lifted the orb, displaying it to the young black. “I choose this one.”
“That's a fine choice. The Stone of Rezerik, First King of the Dreualfar. It's said to contain his emotion, cast away into the stone in order to lead his people to victory. Take it. It's yours.”
Sean greedily stuffed the fist-sized object into his pouch and glanced at the others, still frozen where they stood.
The scaly head shot forth with lightning speed, snapping shut around the greedy human. Autzumo’s thick, jagged teeth tore into flesh ripping his frail body in half before his screams were silenced. Swallowing the top half, he whipped around to face the others. “Who else would like a piece of my treasure?” A wispy green mist rolled gently from his nostrils, forming into a thick pool around them. It floated through the air like a heavy fog, collecting at their feet and engulfing their bodies.
Kelly felt the poison burn its way down his throat. He coughed, seeing blood escape in clotted chunks. His knees hit the ground, sending coin scattering about. His vision was fading quickly. Watching the black-horned head hover over him, its gaping maw opened, revealing hundreds of needle sharp teeth and a thick, forked tongue. It flicked once and snapped around him. A sharp pain erupted in his numbing body. And then he felt nothing.
Krenin awoke to the rumble of stone and the clinking of coin. He tried to move, found the task uncooperative. Opening his eyes, sight of the large beast filled him with dread. It was sitting on its hind haunches, sprawled out like a chubby orcling sorting his favorite pebbles.
The piles of gold were moved, organized and stacked high once again. The creature plucked a single coin between his deadly talons, inspecting it thoroughly. Laying it to rest atop one of the piles he grabbed another. “Did you steal my treasure?”
The voice was unlike any he'd heard before. Realizing the question was directed at him, Krenin responded. “Define 'steal'.”
“Did you leave here with my treasure?” The dragon laid another coin down, inspecting another. His head didn't so much as glance in the direction of the subdued half-orc.
“No. Was going to. But didn't get that far.”
“Then explain to me why I have four-thousand and seventy-two pieces missing.” The dragon shot up, scattering several piles from their neatly organized stacks. He paused inches from the half-breed's face, awaiting an answer. “I could kill you in a moment’s notice. I wouldn't think twice about it. But your friends and their horse have temporarily sated my appetite.” Autzumo backed away, keeping his beady, dark eyes locked on the half-orc. “I've counted my treasure several times. I do not make mistakes. Tell me where my treasure is and I may let you live.”
Krenin pulled against the irons, hoping he could dislodge the stakes. “They buried it at camp. Only one bag.”
“Good.” The dragon reached into the now mess, pulling a single, clear gem from the treasure. Holding it in front of his face, he gently blew. A cloud formed inside the clear prism, displaying an array of color. “Do you see this gem?”
“Yes.”
“I've trapped your life essence in it. I'm going to release you and you're going to retrieve my treasure. Bring it back to me and I'll give you this gem. Your life will be your own, to do with what you please. But trust me when I say if you skip out on a single piece, not only will I know, but I'll crush this gem and your life along with it.”
Krenin watched the beast for a moment, considering his options. Can he do that? Nobody has that power. He don't know where it is. Wouldn't ask if he did. Defiance in his voice, he made his decision. “Crush it. You not have power over Krenin. Krenin the only one who knows where treasure is. You kill me, you never find it.”
A deep roar echoed through the cave. “Insolent half-orc. You'll bring it to me. Days, weeks, it doesn’t matter. You're stuck here. Eventually you'll get hungry enough that you'll agree, or you'll starve to death. It makes no difference to me.” Autzumo flung the stone across the room and spun around.
Krenin felt a breeze wash over him. He was blinded for the briefest moment. Glancing around, only the tip of a spiked tail could be seen, slithering out the small tunnel.
Night had fallen on the town of Aldridge. The lanterns were lit and the usual fog had rolled in.
Gareth stepped out of the general store, cinching the leather strap on his overstuffed duffle. A coiled rope and several sized bear traps dangled from the side. He tossed the sack over his shoulder and turned toward the inn.
A familiar face caught his attention. The warrior from the tavern skirted across the road, headed for the edge of town. He looked young, almost too young. But the expression on his face said more than enough. He'd see things most wished to forget. That was seasoned enough in his experience. He seemed small in stature. The massive great sword strapped to his back didn't help that appearance. Perhaps he'd not yet reached his adult years? Or perhaps he'd simply chosen a life he wasn’t physically built for. He was of fair height, though short by human standard, by a few inches at least. And he wasn't overly heavy. His body just didn't fit his gear. Like he was a warrior made for finesse, but for some unknown reason, he relied on strength.
Gareth watched him. There was something familiar, something he couldn't place. Deciding silently, he strode for the boy. "Oy, lad!"
Kane stopped, turning to see the broad man headed toward him. He waited patiently for him to reach talking distance, not that he had anything to talk about.
"You any good with that sword?" Gareth asked, surveying him.
"Depends on your purpose, you may find out first hand." Kane stated coldly, hoping he wasn’t going to have to fight.
A smirk found his lips. "Easy son, I’ve no quarrel with you. I'm looking for a few men to assist in the slaying of a dragon. I thought you might be up for the challenge."
Kane studied the man, recalling him from the tavern. He carried a cutlass on his side and his gray armor was adorned with several pieces of metal. The leather was thick and looke
d to be finely crafted at one point, though it was worn and weak from years of misuse. Nevertheless, he wore it well and it would protect as designed. What was more curious was that red aura he'd seen earlier. It persisted after the drink had worn off. There had to be something more to this man than met the eye. Magic or otherwise, he was unlike any he'd seen before. “I suppose you’re going to tell me to meet you at the edge of town at first light?"
Gareth nodded. "You've seen the poster then? Very well, if I see you there, it’ll be a welcome sight. If not, safe travels!" He offered salute and turned the way he’d come.
“Hey!”
Gareth froze, glancing over his shoulder and the young man.
“The name's Kane. And I'll be there.”
“Good!” Gareth continued on his way, stepping into the rolling mist.
Kane watched the large man disappear, leaving him to his solitude. Returning to his path, he made for the edge of town. Finding a small clearing inside the tree line, he dug out a pit and lined it with rock. Piling tinder, he struck his flint and watched the sparks dance to life. The twigs began to smolder and moments later, a small fire flared up. He stacked slightly larger sticks around, hoping it’d burn for a few hours. He didn’t need something he’d have to tend to in the middle of the night. But he also didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself. Mostly he just wanted to keep warm for the cool, autumn night.
Pulling his bedroll free of the pack, he unrolled it. Stabbing his sword into the ground, he unbuckled the metal armor and draped it over the hilt, allowing it to serve as a makeshift stand. Lastly, he tossed his clothes over the polished metal to prevent the morning dew from rusting. Lying down, he curled up under his blanket and drifted off to sleep.
The mist was thick, obscuring sight beyond a few feet away. Even the buildings of the well-populated town were difficult to see in the dense blanket. Lanterns hung from posts, attempting to illuminate the streets but they offered little more than a faint glow in the early morning.
The sun was threatening to peek over the horizon when Gareth, Malakai, and Ravion made their way to the town's edge.
Kane stood, great sword in front of him. The tip was stuck in the dirt, allowing him to rest against the pommel. His armor had an unnatural glow in the heavy fog, proudly displaying the coiled dragon engraved in the belly. It stood in stark contrast to the polished chrome breastplate. He stood erect flipping his sword up to his shoulder, watching the others arrived.
"Good morning." Gareth offered, coming into sight of the young man. "I’d hoped a few others would have shown, but it seems not all men are cut out for the slaying of dragons."
The others inspected Kane, as he did them.
Gareth offered introductions. "Kane, this is Malakai."
Malakai lifted his sabre in salute.
"And this is Ravion. Gentlemen, meet Kane. It seems he's gonna’ be our meat shield during this little adventure."
Ravion locked his gaze on the young warrior’s aura. He had to be at least part dalari. It was present, but faded, a strange attribute of his heritage. There were no half-breeds as far as he knew. The dalari blood always seemed to overpower the mixture. This man could prove useful. He gave a gentle bow using his sword to salute, allowing his knowledge of nobility and grace to flourish in the morning light.
Kane returned the greetings, distracted by the large pike in the bald man's hand.
Gareth noticed his gaze and offered explanation. "The beast we're going after, while young, is still a deadly opponent. This'll help us pin ‘em down without getting too close. If you'd like I can fetch you one as well.
Kane chuckled. "No, thank you. I'm quite comfortable with my sword."
"As you wish. Well, this beasty ain't gonna’ slay itself. We'd best be on our way before the sun tells every creature between here and there of our intent.”
The group set off into the dense forest. The morning mist was still extremely thick, as it was every morning. It began to fade with the sunrise.
Ravion took the lead retracing his steps of the previous day, feigning his tracking skills as if he'd picked up a trail. They didn't need to know he'd already found the monster. He moved as quietly and gracefully as possible. Not even the sound of his boots could be heard on the forest’s floor.
The others were a different story. Gareth sounded as if he wasn't trying to mask himself whatsoever. The crunch of foliage under his feet crashed through the trees. And branches cracked and snapped against his wide form. Even the jingle of his sword echoed.
Malakai wasn't overly loud, but could still be heard in the thick vegetation, mostly due to the panting from his fondness of pipe tobacco.
Kane was surprisingly quiet despite his heavy gear. The occasional noise came from a protruding branch gliding off the breastplate, but otherwise he stepped as light as the ranger.
They progressed closer to the dragon's lair, slowing their pace in the passing moments. It was easier to be quiet at a slow speed.
Ravion threw his hand in the air for all to see. Taking position at the top of the ravine, he waved them forward.
They carefully made their way to his side, looking into the clearing.
"Your dragon’s in there.” He pointed to a wide cavern entrance, hidden by the valley. “If you find yourself in further need of my services, I'll be at the tavern." Denying chance for refute, he turned and started the direction they’d come.
Gareth felt a slight irritation. Reciting their arrangement in his head, he faced the realization. Damn it! I paid him to track and lead me to the dragon. We never discussed combat. "Wait! If you stay and fight I'll double your pay."
The ranger spun around, correcting his step and fell in line. “Shall we?” A satisfied smirk formed. He cautiously stepped past the group and made his way down the hill.
They made their way into the clearing, weapons at the ready.
Kane took lead, marching into the dark cavern. He was surprised by how well he could see in the dank passageway. Broken pieces of wood littered the ground, remains of what looked to be a wagon at some point. The stench was nauseating, but not unbearable. It reminded him of a butcher's mart on a hot summer day. Though this was less sticky.
Malakai had a bit of trouble seeing anything past the entrance. Only the reflecting sun off the young warrior's breastplate told him which direction to go. But that was rapidly fading. Soon he wouldn't be able to see anything.
A serpentine voice echoed from the void. "More visitors come to seek death?"
Gareth replied with forceful presence. "Your reign of terror has come to its end, snake!"
"We shall see!" The dragon retorted, whipping its tail from the shadows.
Kane felt the impact against his right side. It launched him off his feet sending him crashing into the cavern wall. He slammed hard against the jagged rocks and tumbled to the ground.
Gareth and Ravion readied their weapons, preparing for another attack.
Malakai closed his eyes. They were useless in here. It was best he let his other senses take over. Listening for the impact, he charged what he guessed was the fallen warrior. Taking a defensive position in front of him, he stood as ready as he could be. “Is that you, Kane?”
Large bouts of air rushed into his lungs, threatening to send panic in their wake. Realizing he was breathing too hard, he exhaled slowly, forcing his body to comply. Malakai had taught him well. Getting his body back into submission, he answered. “Yeah. I'm okay. Can you see?”
“Nope. And there's no time to light a torch.”
“Alright. I'll try to guide you as best I can.”
Autzumo extended his scaly neck. The muscles flexed, preparing to spew his acidic breath over the group of would be slayers.
Kane reached to the small of his back, drawing a dagger. With the flick of his wrist he launched the blade, striking the beast in the underside of its jaw. The blade sank to the hilt, spewing a green ooze from the wound. He felt several of the droplets spray against his face. They tingle
d his flesh, like a fly landing for a brief rest.
The dragon choked, abandoning his deadly breath weapon. A mighty roar escaped him. Whipped his tail in protest, he batted at the trespassers.
Malakai felt the droplets hit him. Burning into his clothing, he quickly ripped away the tainted sleeves, listening for any sound of movement.
Ravion rolled, easily avoiding the wild tail. Springing to his feet, he lunged at the out-stretched appendage a few feet from him. The tip of his blade scratched into blackened scales, splitting a small section.
Gareth thrust the pike, forcing the dragon to retreat toward the cavern wall. It roared against the shaft, fighting to keep ground.
“Jump!” Kane shouted, attempting to defend the blind man.
Malakai tried to move, but it was too late. The thick tail collided, knocking his feet from beneath him. His legs buckled against the force, and he hit the ground. Throwing his sabre out in defense, he narrowly deflected a crushing blow from the forceful whip.
Kane wiped the spray from his face, noticing the toxin eating into his clothing. Pulled from his observation, he spotted the tail headed toward him again. Prepared for the assault this time, he brought his great sword around, allowing the force to amplify his swing.
The dragon roared in pain, feeling the last several feet of his tail become severed from the rest. "You'll pay for that!" Autzumo howled. Fighting the pike, he was limited to his claws. Batting at the swords and numerous attackers, he tried to land a solid blow against at least one of them Though he was having trouble. There were too many to defend against.
Ravion narrowly dodged the lethal, foot long talons. He noticed a green ooze seeping from the tips.
Using the distraction, Kane grabbed hold of Malakai's arm and pulled him to his feet. Feeling the lightly armored warrior take his own weight, he spun and charged, hoping to finish the beast.
Autzumo calculated his options. His movement was severely limited. If he pushed forward too much, the steel head of the pike would tear through his beautiful scales. And with his tail damaged, he was unable to keep them at a distance and under a disadvantage. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he saw the armored man that’d severed his tail charging. His sword was raised and ready strike. He swiped at the warrior, hoping he could tear him into pieces before he was able to raise the enchanted weapon.
