by Lisa Jones
The complete excavation around the great statue of the dragon took five days. The engineers were very concerned with preservation of the artifact for study, great care was ensured not a single speck of stone was chipped from the dragon. What a magnificent sight when uncovered and lit up, again I must ask myself, who or what could have made this and placed it this far underground if not us dwarves? For the next eighteen days our scientists and engineers ran tests upon the dragon and the ruby. Strange vibrations would interfere with the various instruments the engineers were using. On the nineteenth day the engineers concluded the ruby could be removed from the statue and indeed it should be removed for scientific examination and to add to the already bulging treasury. We knew this could not be one of the four sleeping dragon lords poisoned by Zangonath and laid to slumber until the madness passes by the God Xamuiez, as they are in the very far north and we are excavating in the deepest south. Still, this could be one of the dragon’s offspring frozen long ago, if this is one of their progeny I never want to meet its parent until we are assured the curse is completely over. The sheer size of this statue makes it hard to believe a creature so large could ever have truly existed, yet here it is staring into infinity. The engineers began the process of placing scaffolding and machinery around the statue to remove the ruby.
Eight dwarven engineers were on a large metal scaffold surrounding the ruby in the center of the great stone dragon’s chest. Inserting their metal removing bars on each side of the octagonal ruby, the command was given and the eight gave a great push and heave removing the jewel from its socket. The ruby was then gently eased forward and harnessed, being taken by steam crane to a prepared resting area before transportation. A large cushioned box had been prepared to safeguard the jewel. Everyone began to notice this jewel would vibrate on its own from an unknown energy source as it was sitting alone. The depth of its redness was impossible to imagine and it kept gaining different dimensions of shade. The jewel was taken to the royal chambers where it was of course presented to the king.
Lavish feasts, extended games and celebrations had been planned since hearing of the discovery of the dragon statue and its ruby. The trip from the dig site to the throne room was very long and would give ample time for the servants to prepare for the festivities. Upon delivery of the ruby to the throne room the celebrations were reaching their apex. The current under the mountain king Gorv sat upon his stone throne downing mug after mug of dark ale. Huge tables of stone had been setup all around the hall for the nobility of the city. Covered with fine silks and now overflowing with food, drink and merriment. The dwarven band played off to the side their string and stone instruments humming as the light from the crystals placed strategically around the hall illuminated the unfolding feast. No one could ever mistake Gorv for a genius, nor was he a particularly good king. What he lacked in intelligence he made up for with brutality. Even among the cutthroat world of under mountain dwarven politics Gorv was considered especially ruthless and brutal. Having all his siblings down to the last cousin murdered upon his seizing the throne so no one could contest him in any manner can be called one of his more kind deeds.
One would almost think looking upon this feast that the dwarven nobility were happy. This illusion was shattered when Gorv stood and lifted his hand above his head. Without having to say a word the entire throne room went from a raucous celebration to complete silence, the deafness of a funeral. Gorv ruled by fear, “Bring in the ruby!” he shouted to no one in particular in an angry drunken tone. The large stone doors of the throne room were already opened for the feast and the tables had been arranged to the side in advance to make room for the jewel’s delivery. The ruby was wheeled into the throne room with all the pomp and circumstance of a kings’ coronation. Entering in a carriage made of solid gold, the laced wheels included, the ruby lay on an endless bed of silk pillows secured by a chain. Flanked by a royal guard in the finest armor, the eight guards marched in step, pushing the carriage towards the throne. Gorv stood wobbly, red faced and very proud of himself as if he was bringing in a conquered foe to grovel before him. The procession reached the foot of the throne and came to a halt. The eight guards spoke in perfect unison, “My king, we present the lost dragon ruby for your rule, to be added to your treasury.” King Gorv walked down the steps of his throne perch and approached the ruby. A guard opened the front of the carriage to present the jewel to the king. The ruby was very heavy and seated towards the back of the carriage deeply among the silken pillows, chained in so as not to move. However, when the guard opened the carriage door so the king could enter and touch the ruby, the ruby somehow rolled forward falling out of the carriage and crushed king Gorv to death in front of everyone. Before the shock of what had just happened set in or the screams could begin, the gigantic boulder sized dragon ruby rose six feet off the floor with the smashed body of the previous king still attached. The dragon ruby began to slowly rotate as those present looked on in silent horror and disbelief. A voice spoke, not the king’s, but a voice seeming to come from within the ruby itself.
“Hatred and evil always find a reason to justify their existence, while love and goodness simply exist.” The dragon ruby spoke those words as everyone stared unable to grasp the gravity of the full situation. The ruby spoke again, “You have failed both, now become what you desire!” At that instant everyone and everything in the throne room was turned into a solid gray stone.
There is a purpose and a power behind the dragon statue. If the jewels on the four dragon lords’ statues are disturbed then this power and purpose is activated. The jewel serves as a conductor of sorts, when the jewel is disturbed it will transfer all matter within a certain distance to stone. This is the energy that allows for the dragon statue guardian to transform from stone to a seemingly living dragon of scales. The dragon statue found by these under mountain dwarves is the guardian of Zebial first born of the dragon lords. The guardian dragon is not a copy or clone of Zebial, nor does it possess the wisdom or years of knowledge. It is simply a tool. The dragon statue has one purpose, to destroy all in its path when disturbed. The ruby cannot be returned to the statue if removed after transformation. The dragon statue will rampage until it is destroyed by something completely or the actual Zebial comes and relieves the guardian. The latter option being impossible as Zebial sleeps away Zangoath’s curse in the unknown north.
The moment the ruby transformed the throne room banquet to stone the guardian of Zebial came to life. No one could know this with the dig site being hundreds of miles removed from the throne room where the ruby activated. The guardian immediately began thrashing wildly and burning everyone and everything in sight. All the experienced dwarven miners and engineers along with generations old equipment were lost. The guardian continued thrashing the stone, slamming back and forth widening its already huge cavern with every thrust. The remaining garrison of dwarves numbered two hundred soldiers. Not many were there as this was such a far flung and routine mission it was assumed to be nothing more than a simple mining and building expedition as done countless times before. These operations and excavations are the very reason dwarves exist, they take pride in their stone craft.
Captain Oelrud was the leader of the two hundred remaining dwarves sent along with the mining and building expedition for the great forge. The captain had sent fifty men to guard the banquet and ceremonies, they are now stone. Had he committed everyone, they would all have suffered the same fate. Captain Oelrud was an honorable enough dwarf from a highborn family. He had served in many campaigns against the Eshken and distinguished himself. The captain proceeded to gather all his remaining men and head towards the throne room. Upon entering they froze at the site, the ruby lay on the floor colorless, more like a diamond than a ruby now. Everything from tables, to cups, to dwarves was now a solid gray stone. The contingent of dwarves could not believe it when they stumbled through. The shock caused them to forget their formation and begin to wander through the stone ruins at individual paces. Captain Oelrud
recognized this mental lapse and commanded his men’s attention. They immediately fell back into a proper formation. That was fortuitous, since at that moment the guardian smashed through the small stone doorway leading into the throne room they currently occupied, leaving a gaping chasm in its wake. There followed a moment of stillness but for a single rock falling as both parties surveyed the situation. That is, until the guardian saw his colorless jewel on the ground. This caused extreme rage to come over the guardian. The captain recognized this immediately, “fall back behind the farthest stone!” He shouted to his men as the hasty retreat began. It was more like a stampede than a retreat. Almost all of the men were crushed or burned to death before reaching the other unscathed doorway of the throne room. Captain Oelrud reached it with only twenty of his men alive. They ran as fast and as hard as their stout legs loaded with armor would carry them. Running through the opening just as the guardian crushed his now worthless, colorless ruby under its foot. The guardian slammed his head into the doorway behind them extending his long neck faster than a snake striking, another twelve dwarves were gone. Captain Oelrud, stout and brave of heart as he was, almost stopped and gasped at that last strike, the remaining soldiers ran up the long spiral stairs leading out of the dig site. Coming to the surface and seeing daylight after what seemed like hours of running the captain now had a moment to properly assess the situation in which he found himself and his remaining troops.
From two hundred they were now nine including the captain. Captain Oelrud gathered his men around him a safe distance from the spiral staircase they had used to escape the build site. This should give him some time to think out their next step he thought. “The dragon must be cursing us lads!” the captain said to his men trying to ease the mood but drawing only faint smiles from the thinned, ashen faces. Looking into their eyes, hundreds of miles from home he could see their pain and fear. The captain began to speak to his men. “Today was a day that will be a song, this da…” at that moment the guardian flew up from beneath all nine and swallowed them as it flew off into the sky making its way north. Leaving nothing behind but a gaping hole in the rock below and not a single eye open to weep for the dead, the guardian flew to its next victim. It would never stop killing without its destruction or relief. Magical intervention must exist or extermination is assured.
Summer had been kind to Jeop this year with a perfect balance of sun and rain. The lower southern half of Grazlin is the most fertile in the kingdom. The river of life has made the north arable but it is still rather mountainous. Jeop’s family had farmed this land for generations. The village had built up nicely a few miles down the road from his farm. His wife and three children helped run the farm, their village, now closer in scope to a small city was growing quite a reputation for quality produce and fine local meats. The harvest had been gathered and bundled for the market. Jeop and his family set off down the winding dirt road on a sunny and mild summer morning. Transporting what is sure to be a successful harvest, the family was merrily singing as their wagon slowly lumbered along the road weighed down with their goods. “Looking forward to another good year Mother,” Jeop said, smiling to his wife as the road wound along. The village came into sight after rounding the last hill and Jeop steered his wagon towards his stall in the marketplace as he had for many years.
Merchants everywhere, with what seemed every type of goods from all of Oleskia. Children running through the crowd playing, sounds of singing drifting off in the distance. The smell of meats grilling, these are some of the numerous sights, sounds and smells in the southern Grazlin marketplace on the first harvest day of each year. Jeop began unloading his wagon with his family and setting up shop. As they unloaded, Jeop chatted with his neighboring stalls, catching up on the winter news. He didn’t notice the sun had gone red, until the smell of brimstone hit his nose there was no clue this day was different from any other, different indeed being his last. Jeop looked into the sky in confusion as he held his fruits in his hands. Trying to rummage quickly thorough his mind as to what may be causing such a phenomena. His last vision was a huge red dragon full of flame and black smoke sweeping down on him at a speed never seen, and then, the village and everyone in it was gone in a puff of smoke. That’s how fast it happens, not dramatic in the least, save the dramatics for the theater. In reality, the dragon sweeps in like a firestorm from the hottest part of the sun, spews fire and nothing remains except the destruction of the next village. That is the cruelty of life; everyman thinks they shall live forever whether they have been given five good years or fifty. We exist briefly, until in an instant, we cease to exist. Best to enjoy your moments before the dragon comes.
Xamuiez is a God; his ways are not the ways of mortals. None alive can know his meaning or comprehend his plan. The four sleeping dragon lords and their guardian statues are very closely related in many ways unknown to all but him. Thus, unknown to the dwarves, the instant the guardian was awakened the curse was removed from the real Zebial in the far north and Xamuiez lifted the first dragon’s long slumber. Zebial was taken to the surface and placed in a sunny grove by the powers of Xamuiez, passing through no earth. There, Bultan was awaiting his arrival. Fifteen hundred years had made the great dragon very disoriented at first, as was expected. With the help of Bultan and his magic he began to come around and awaken gradually. This was the first time Zebial had been awake since having the evil curse lifted and he was himself in mind again for the first time in over fifteen hundred years. Upon fully awakening and regaining his memories, Zebial collapsed in front of Bultan shaking the ground like a great earthquake as he dropped. Bultan barely came up to the great dragon’s lower jaw. “I cannot bear it, the murder, the evil unleashed by my own hand, my own weakness.” Zebial cried as he lamented, tears began filling the ground under Bultan’s feet. Looking upon it Bultan’s first lesson came to mind when he was but a child, he remembered his master telling him how closely dragon’s tears resembled mercury. Odd, the great wizard moved forward and touched Zebial’s chin softly. “My dear Zebial, the evil brought upon you and your brethren was not your fault. Your river of life created by you alone in Rozim so many thousands of years ago still gives life to the people. No dear one, another’s decision to exploit your weakness for evil does not create guilt on your part, only more evil for the one who would sow such thoughts.”Zebial lifted his head, the size of a king’s palace and looked down upon Bultan. The wizard continued, “This is a new time, a new age and course there must be a new evil.” He chuckled to himself. “Yet, this “new” evil is a familiar foe, the apprentice of your enslaver, Zangonath the clouded. He does not have the knowledge to manipulate the dragons’ magical weakness like his master.” The huge dragon lord let out an angry snort and smoke flew from his nostrils. “Your curse is now lifted as your stone guardian was awakened by the ever digging dwarves. Without regard to its power, the ruby was improperly removed; as we speak it kills in your name.” Bultan relayed to Zebial quickly. “Then I must leave this place and stop the guardian, so I may begin working on restoring my reputation by destroying this Zangonath, his name reminds me too much of his master and I will see him eliminated forever.” Bultan could see the fire glow in Zebial’s eyes, this made the old wizard tingle with electric magic as his staff began to crackle in his hand audibly. It had been over millennia since he had seen the eye fire and understood what was to come next after it had been seen in a dragon lords eyes. “Go Zebial; begin the restoration of the world. Find the other statues if you can and all four dragon lords will be free before the evil spell can run its course over time, which could be thousands of years more. Then there shall be no threat, and peace may finally settle upon this land and the inhabitants lives.”
Zebial left immediately and began flying south as fast as he could; drawn to the guardian he knew exactly where to go. “Has it truly been fifteen hundred years?” Zebial thought to himself as he surveyed the dramatically changed landscape unfolding beneath him as it flew by. His mental map no longer matched
the pictures beneath him. The guardian would be making its way north mindlessly rampaging. After only a few hours of flight Zebial saw thick billowing smoke in the distance and flew towards it. Circling above he surveyed the scene, the guardian was below burning and destroying the village. “These people think that is me!” A horrified Zebial thought. His mind was still filled with all the guilt and past memories of his atrocities when he was cursed. There had been no time to process these events and it appeared there wouldn’t be for some time. Zebial was consumed with a burning rage. Swooping down in a semi circle building up an incredible amount of speed, Zebial took aim at each side of the guardian’s neck with his huge talons and dove headlong, increasing his speed even more so. The guardian was immersed in burning down a large warehouse and had noticed nothing.
