The History of Krynn: Vol V

by Dragon Lance

  Klassh scooped up the fallen sword and advanced. Whirling the blade in a dizzying series of figure eights, the dragon, still in human form, engaged the intruder. For a few minutes, the combatants parried and thrust, testing each other’s mettle. Dancing out of the way of a thrust, the elf delivered a deep, painful slash to Klassh’s left leg. The dragon howled in pain. Klassh lost control of his form, polymorphing back to his original shape. The elf dashed for the portal.

  The dragon sighed in relief from the strain of holding the humanoid form. He turned just in time to see the elf clear the doorway. Breathing another flame blast lost Klassh precious seconds and was ultimately a waste of effort. As the flame flowed down the corridor behind the elf, the intensity of the heat destroyed the tunnel’s already decaying support structure and it collapsed in on itself. That way was blocked. Klassh would have to use the front door.

  Launching himself through the once-grand entrance, Klassh took to the air with a mighty thrust of his wings. With powerful strokes, he climbed rapidly into the stormy skies. The first rain was in progress after a brutally dry summer. Ordinarily, Klassh enjoyed an autumn squall, which cooled the heat generated by his fiery breath. But today he was oblivious to the shower. Soaring upward, he caught a strong thermal and relaxed his wings, gliding upward in ever-tightening concentric circles.

  As he reached the apex of the updraft, now hundreds of feet in the air, Klassh looked below and spotted the elf moving down the mountainside. The dragon’s ire had cooled now, but he was annoyed with himself for not establishing mental contact with the troublesome thief. Klassh possessed a Pendant of Mind-Seeing stolen long ago from the elves. Once Klassh locked onto the elf’s thoughts, it could not escape. Now that Klassh had a clear line of sight, it was just a matter of a few seconds.

  ... ready yet, the thief was thinking.

  Contact!

  FEAR!

  Delicious terror flooded Klassh’s brain as he read the emotions of the fleeing elf. The intoxicated dragon did not even realize he had lost the thermal and was descending until the feeling intensified and he noticed the elf looking skyward. It had spotted the dragon and was scrambling for cover. Klassh pulled out of his dive and flew upward.

  Klassh concentrated deeply and once again entered the frightened elf’s mind.

  FEAR!

  Once again, the elf’s utter panic flooded the dragon’s brain, but this time he probed deeper, and managed to extract a name: B’ynn al’Tor. Attempting to push even further into the elf’s mind, the dragon found the way blocked. Its brain was locked up tight behind the barrier of his panic.

  The elf dodged skillfully through the rough terrain. The green had mostly gone from the landscape, replaced by the spectacular reds, oranges, yellows and browns that pervaded the mountains in the fall.

  Shortly before the First Dragon War, the dragon had come to these mountains to find a home. He had been pleasantly surprised to discover a dwarven stronghold nestled near the very top of one of the highest peaks. Although Klassh loathed all mortals, he reserved his most deep and abiding hatred for dwarves. He had greatly enjoyed clearing them out and making their great hall his lair. He spent most of his time now at what the dwarves had once called Cobb Hall.

  The elf was now descending a rather steep and slippery slope. The sparse growth at this elevation, compounded by the drizzling rain, must have made the footing precarious.

  No longer in any rush to kill the intruder, but rather in a mood to deal some pain to the creature before finishing it off, the dragon, mostly hidden by the storm clouds, flew over the elf at a great height. Cresting, he dropped, using the mountains to conceal his descent. Only a hundred yards from the elf, who was still picking his way carefully down the mountain, Klassh quickened his descent and flew rapidly toward his quarry. As he passed over the elf, only a few yards above, the great blast of wind spawned by his furiously pumping wings blew the elf off-balance.

  The elf might have recovered, if the gust had not also triggered a small rockslide. It fell hard, rolling down the hillside, battered by the wet, rocky surface as well as the loose stones falling on and over it.

  PAIN! FEAR! HUMILIATION!

  Well pleased, the dragon soared upward, basking in the emotions coursing through the elf’s mind. The joy of the game was upon Klassh and he was not about to let it end too soon.

  Klassh circled and swooped down again.

  The elf crawled painfully behind a boulder. The dragon warmed to the chase. The doomed elf had proved remarkably resourceful and entertaining so far.

  The thief had managed to crawl into an outcropping of boulders that supported a flat rock, forming a protective shield against the dragon’s attacks. Stymied from direct assault, Klassh lit on the shield rock, adding his considerable weight to the precariously balanced stone.

  FEAR!

  The elf’s terror spiked sharply, but he had nowhere to go. The dragon gave the elf a few minutes to relax, then shifted his weight. The stone ground against its supports, sending showers of pebbles and dust down on the wounded elf.

  FEAR!

  As Klassh expected, the elf’s fear rose to a crescendo, filling the dragon with sweet music. Just before the shelf collapsed, Klassh lifted off.

  As he rose, Klassh was aware that the elf had started to move again, but when the dragon circled around to look, he could not see the thief. Squinting his eyes, scanning the area near the elf’s recent hiding place, the dragon spotted the elf moving toward a sharp drop-off.

  Swooping down, the dragon buffeted the area with his wings, stirring up a small dust storm. The elf ran toward the cliff and jumped off.

  Startled, the dragon rose into the air and swung around to see what had happened.

  A small ledge projected from the face of the cliff, leading to a cave in the cliff face. The cliff blocked the sun, casting its huge shadow across the cliff’s face. The dragon could not readily tell the size of the cave as he flew past, but he would not permit the thief to get away this easily and spoil his fun. Klassh could not land on the thin ledge, so he circled around and dove directly into the cave.

  Klassh transformed in midair. He passed through the cave opening, the outspread feathered wings of his griffin form easily slowing his headlong flight. When he landed, a sharp pain lanced up through his rear leg, nearly causing him to lose control. Looking back, he saw that the wound given him by the elf in the great hall had festered.

  Returning to his natural form, Klassh licked at the wound, and tasted the residue of magic. The intrinsic curative powers of the dragon’s saliva quickly overcame the remaining traces of magic and the wound began to heal, though it still stung.

  Klassh’s eyes adjusted to the gloom and he knew for certain that he had found another dwarven structure, which looked as old as Cobb Hall.

  “Twice-damned dwarves! Busy as beavers they are,” Klassh muttered.

  Some avian creatures had obviously claimed the place as their nest. Two large eggs sat in the middle of the largest pile of refuse. The dragon gulped the eggs casually as he explored the chamber.

  Fortunately, the senseless dwarves liked to build big, as attested to by the huge opening right in front of the dragon, which was just big enough to accommodate his bulk. The elf’s trail was clearly marked in the dust by footprints on the stone floor.

  As Klassh moved through the dry corridors, the dust swirled about him, sticking to his wet skin, obscuring his vision, stinging his eyes and choking his breathing. He was no longer enjoying the game as much.

  “The thief will pay for this,” Klassh vowed. “When I get my claws on the elf, it will wish it had perished in my first flame blast. I will chew it slowly, savoring its fear and anguish.”

  Suddenly, the footprints vanished. Looking closely, Klassh peered through the dust. The footprints started again a few feet away.

  Klassh continued.

  A pit sprang open beneath him, but it was far too small for his great size.

  “Ha! Stupid dwarves!”


  The dragon slithered on.

  FEAR!

  Still unable to penetrate the shield of the elf’s panic, Klassh contented himself with monitoring the creature’s emotions and reading the odd stray thought that slipped through.

  Must keep moving... dusty... following my footprints... trap... Such were the elf’s terror-ridden thoughts.

  Shortly, Klassh came upon another gap in the footprints, but the dragon did not even slow down. He felt something very sharp prick his side. But the pain quickly subsided, so the dragon ignored the wound and kept moving, trying to catch up with the elf.

  Suddenly Klassh’s skin began to itch. The joy of the hunt was definitely gone now, replaced by anger and irritation. Klassh desperately wanted out of these stale corridors. When he caught up with the elf, the dragon was inclined just to roast the thief with a fire blast and be done with it. He would retrieve the gleaming sword from the elf’s charred corpse, then go to a nearby mountain lake and relax in its deliciously cold waters.

  His pleasant thoughts were interrupted by another sharp prick in his side. He again ignored the wound, but at the third stab, he snapped and let out a bellow of annoyance and pain.

  A wave of nausea swept over Klassh. His body and head began to ache violently. The itching on his skin increased tenfold, as if his skin was trying to crawl off his body. He lost control of his limbs and sank to the ground.

  “Poison! Thrice-damned dwarves poisoned me!” Klassh roared.

  He thrashed his tail. His stomach twisted. His head pounded as if a stone giant were hitting him with a hammer, and then darkness swam before his eyes. For the first time in his long life, Klassh passed out.

  *

  The dragon came to slowly. His body ached, his head still pounded and his stomach roiled, but his system was fighting off the powerful poison. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He could no longer feel the thief’s emotions or hear its thoughts. Losing consciousness had severed the magical contact.

  The dragon heaved himself up onto his feet. It took Klassh a few more minutes to get his bearings and find the elf’s footprints in the dust once more.

  Consumed with his own misery, Klassh did not notice the dust beginning to thin and the footprints starting to mix with others. He did not hear voices emanating from a passageway before him until he turned a corner and ran into a small group of goblins. The goblins froze for an instant, and then burst into complete panic, dropping everything they were carrying, running about, tripping over each other, and gibbering in high-pitched voices. Klassh lunged forward and snagged one by its jerkin.

  “How do I get out of here?” he roared at the hysterical creature, who immediately fainted dead away in his grasp.

  Tossing the goblin to the side, breaking its neck as it hit the wall, Klassh grabbed for another one and tried again, with the same result. The goblin passed out.

  “Can’t even answer a simple question,” Klassh grumbled.

  Giving up on that strategy, Klassh followed the largest concentration of goblins. It seemed probable that they were heading for the exit. But he soon discovered, when he came to a dead end, that the goblins were rushing about in a blind panic. Loathe to waste one of his powers, but aware that he was now hopelessly lost, Klassh grabbed another goblin and cast a calming spell over it.

  “I will not hurt you. Lead me out of here,” Klassh commanded.

  The dragon cleared the way with his flame, frying anything in his way. The now-calmed goblin led the dragon through a series of seemingly endless corridors until they reached the exit. The sky had darkened since he had entered the cave. Rain now fell from the sky in a torrent.

  The exit was halfway up the cliff face. Looking down, Klassh saw a strange contraption that looked like a wooden platform attached to a number of ropes. It moved along the face of the cliff next to a series of openings in a vertical line on the cliff face. He could see the elf through the sheeting rain, working the ropes.

  “Thief!” screamed the dragon, launching himself out of the opening and into the sky, inadvertently knocking the goblin out as well. The goblin remained calm. It did not even scream as it fell to its death on the rocks below.

  Klassh spread his wings, hearing them crack and snap as the joints flexed themselves, and started to climb upward. The cool rush of air on his face and the wet splatter of raindrops on his body helped to clear his head of the last remnants of the poison and sickness. With a terrific sneeze, he blew the dust from his nose, then circled downward toward the wooden platform.

  The elf on the platform had just reached the next opening when Klassh painted it with white-hot flame. The platform caught fire instantly. The ropes holding it disintegrated. Leaving a flaming trail, the fiery wreckage crashed down to the rocks and landed near the hapless goblin’s body.

  Klassh spiraled down and landed near the burning ruin. He examined the debris closely, but could not find any trace of the elf, any of its belongings, or the purloined sword.

  “Dwarf entrails! The thief must have managed to get into that opening!”

  It took Klassh nearly an hour to find a small, disguised cave – an egress from the tunnels nestled at the foot of the mountain near a vale. The glade offered plenty of cover with a forest beyond. An ideal spot for an ambush.

  Klassh found a sturdy ledge on the mountain and lay in wait for the elf.

  *

  Klassh was not disappointed. An hour later, the rain had eased. The elf poked his head out of the cave.

  Focusing his concentration on the elf once again, the dragon strove to reestablish the mental link.

  Where is the dragon? the elf was wondering.

  The thief had his answer. He saw Klassh on the ledge.

  FEAR.

  The elf’s emotions once again flooded into the dragon’s head, but they were not very satisfying. The dragon still could not penetrate deeply into the elf’s mind.

  The thief advanced again, moving quickly but silently through the glade, using trees and boulders to hide.

  FEAR!

  The elf moved faster now, running full out for the relative safety of the forest. The thief would be well hidden if the dragon chose to fly above the trees. Despite his fury, Klassh was loathe to use his flame on his beautiful forest. He rose into the air, went into a steep dive, and laid down a line of fire between the elf and its goal, careful not to let the flames get too close to the trees. The dragon pulled out of his dive a few feet from the ground, climbed into the sky, and swung around.

  The elf continued running as fast as he could directly toward the flames, not slowing at all. With a leap, he dove right through the fire. A golden shimmer surrounded the elf’s body as he passed unscathed through the flames, rolled deftly to his feet, and dashed into the forest. The elf continued to run through the sparser outer growth until he reached the heavy canopy, and then vanished inside.

  “Thief,” Klassh spoke and this time felt the word penetrate the elf’s mental block.

  SURPRISE. FEAR.

  “Thief. Elf,” the dragon continued. “I know you can hear my thoughts. I can feel your fear. You think you are safe within the forest, but I will burn it all to the ground, destroy every last tree, plant and creature to get to you. Give yourself to me. Since you have been a worthy adversary, I promise you a quick death.”

  Go to the Abyss, the elf responded.

  “Come now, elf. I know your kind well. I have fought you for millennia. You would not let all this forest be destroyed just to buy yourself a few more moments of life.”

  Silence from the elf.

  “B’ynn al’Tor,” Klassh said smugly.

  SURPRISE.

  “Yes, thief. I know your name. I know your family as well. The House of Tor is well known to the Dragons. We have always regarded your family as a powerful adversary. How far you have fallen. A mere thief, not worthy of the name of Tor.”

  SHAME.

  ... am worthy... the elf thought.

  “No, you are not worthy,” Klassh said stern
ly. “A worthy Tor would not resort to sneaking into my lair through a back door, running away, hiding in dwarf-made tunnels, and skulking around in a forest, which I will burn down around your ears if you do not give yourself to me.”

  SELF-LOATHING.

  ... foolish...

  “Yes, you are very foolish, young elf. Do you not know who I am? My true name you will never know, but I have been known to the world as Klassh, most ancient and powerful of dragons.”

  SURPRISE.

  “Surprised?” Klassh laughed. “You should be. Takhisis herself released me from my earthen tomb, and as she requested, I have kept my freedom hidden from the world so that I may be more effective in aiding the new generation of dragons to conquer Krynn. I tell you this now since I know that, one way or another, you will die before the day is out.”

  Silence.

  “No response, B’ynn al’Tor... half-breed?” Klassh snickered.

  SURPRISE. SHAME.

  “Yes, I know everything about you, Tor. Half-breed. Outcast.”

  Klassh fabricated a story. He still could not fully penetrate the elf’s emotional barrier, but the dragon knew enough about elven society to improvise.

  “In the great hall I smelled the human in you. Cross-breeds are not welcome in proper elven society, are they? So they kicked you out and you became a common thief. The black mark on the proud House of Tor.”

  The elf trekked cautiously through the forest. The dragon could see from above that the area of the forest the elf had entered was actually a narrow band of trees. The forest was sliced through by a deep, wide ravine, like a half-healed scar in the yellow-red autumn skin of the earth. The trees ran nearly to the edge of the ravine. The elf would not be aware of its blunder until it was too late.

  It would only take a few minutes for the elf to reach the gorge.

  “I tire of the chase, outcast, so what is it to be?” Klassh demanded. “Do I burn down the forest, or do you give yourself up? Come now, what do you, a half-breed, have to live for?”

  ANGER.

  ... wife... child...

  “A wife and child. Now that is something to live for... and perhaps die for,” Klassh said. “If you cause me to burn down my forest, I will not only destroy you, but also your family. I will track them down, thief. I will kill them slowly. I will savor your child’s taste in my body. Then the mother. Her I will swallow whole and let die in the raging fires in my stomach.”