When Dragons Rule

Monolithic positioned himself apon a cliff and watched the Morsels' from above, looking this way and that for a suitable host. He was so intrigued by a women running, he did not see or sense what was behind him and felt a sharp sudden pain in his neck, followed by another greater surge of pain throughout his body stemming from his eye.

Disorientated he flew upward and twisted about with panic, and in shock he retaliated with a reckless explosion of fire. He had lost his sense of direction and as he began to spiral downwards, he felt another burst of pain from under his wing, followed closely by another and when he instinctively retracted it in pain, he began to free-fall and crashed heavily into the ground.

In the distance, he could hear Morsels' yelling and cheering and when the voices began to fade, he knew then that he was dying.

The Hunters' did not expect such a bounty and began to skin the Dragon as soon as it was dead. Dragon meat was sweet and the Hunters' would make sure, none of it would go to waste.

The King of Fjüllwald was covered with the pox sores. His mouth was surrounded by oozing pustules, dripping their infectious venom into his digestive tract. The 'crazies' had already started. He had nightfits and nightmares that lapsed over into daymares. To add injury to insult, he was now dispossessed of his only power. He was angry and would get his revenge before he died.

King Fjüllwald called for his court wizard Gaeali (pronounced Gay-a-Lee) and asked if Dragons had any weaknesses or allergies. Normally, discussing any method to rid the world of the evil dragons was considered treason; but, it was quite apparent by the King's pallid face that he had been dispossessed of his demon. Gaeali gave the King a recipe which contained five common ingredients and the brewing procedure. The King had all the court scribes summoned and instructed them to make copies and have them distributed throughout all of Fjüllwald. Every man, woman and child would have the recipe that weakens and kills dragons.

And so it was, that the King is his bitter revenge against his loss of power, handed over the power to fight evil to the common people.

Marsten woke up the next morning and had decided to reverse his travelling plans. First, he'd go to Hyde because if he got his request for the more equitable justice system approved before Pearls had her baby, she might be released in time to go home and have the baby normally. The King's men would make their quarterly visit today, the first of Spring, and he planned to accompany them back to Hyde. He packed his city gear and city clothes and went out his front door. Immediately, the Swine Trio ran up to him out of breathe. As usual, all three of them were talking at once, yelling at once, and playfully smacking each other on the arm. "Slow down! One at a time please." Marsten requested.

Ham-Without-Teeth said, "Pearls hung herself. She's over there in that small wooded area."

Marsten's first thought was that Pearls had the worst timing. She always sabotaged herself. Then, he remembered the baby! This makes her a Baby Killer! Worse yet, a mother who kills her own baby is the worst of all criminals.

Life was short in Khespian, even shorter in Drar-Knocht-Rhen (Fjüllwald), and even shorter again in the Badlands. Normally, criminals who died in the Badlands were buried in a grave with their crime engraved on their wood-burned marker. Their names were not permitted to be engraved; so that none would revere the foulest of the human stock. But, Pearls was a special case.

Marsten told the Trio to fetch her remains and then nail her corpse to the side of a rock wall. Her body would be consumed by vultures. Her epitath would read, "Baby Killer - Foulest of the Foul".

And so it was done.

Errata

first of Spring in above post should read first of Autumn!

Rodrig and Lady Dragon began to prepare the others to accept Andros among them. He understood that she was not satisfied with the wild and careless way these young dragons lived. He saw from the other females that they spent most of their time ranging far and long for coveted treasure. He saw that the young males spent most of their time posturing, fighting, and looking for Morsels to scare or eat.

Lady Dragon had shown them all how the Drákōn had previously lived. She showed the truth of her reverence for the Mother from which they had all come and for the Sun that kept their world alive. She showed them that the gems and chains and various metallic objects, which she still wore, were worn only in reverence to the Mother, who had pushed them from her skin is gifts to her children.

She showed that Drákōn were not meant to feast on just any of the two-leg Morsels. She showed them all a vision of how the Lords of old had enacted justice by providing hardened and proven criminals to the Drákōn for infrequent feasts. Otherwise, they had eaten of the land: primates or buffalo or plains animals or any of the various reptilian creatures residing in the jungle waters.

As the younger dragons became more comfortable with Rodrig, he began to devise a plan to gather companions for them. He decided he would need to start in Hyde, walking the streets in an attempt to sense others who were strong in blood of the Andros. He knew he would need a way to sneak into the city, but did not know how he would get off of Dragon’s Aerie. Lady Dragon provided the solution: ride. She showed him an image of a harness constructed of braided jungle vines. He learned to fly with her.

When he felt he was secure enough in sensing through the Dragon, they struck out in the dead of night. She flew him down toward Hyde and left him near an old mining shaft. Rodrig watched her as she flew off, blending into the night sky, a silent shadow.

Rodrig traveled down the mining shaft into the Lower City.

He stepped from the shaft into what was commonly considered the "marketplace" of the Lower City. Here, there was no difference between night and day. Many of the citizens of the lower depths of Hyde rarely, if ever, ventured out of their tunnels.

Rodrig walked among them, watching them, listening, sensing. He heard much talk of how soldiers had recently come down into the tunnels to hand out vials to the commoners, stating it was a medicine they should all take to combat "tunnel sickness".

People were weighing in on whether or not it should be used. He heard tell that the Upper City residents had all taken the potion, claiming it boosted their stamina, strength, and prowess. He heard others talking about how it was poison, that the King was trying to kill them all off to use their tunnels as a place to store waste.

He heard one fellow say he could not stand the smell of the concoction, that it made him feel nauseated and weak. Rodrig went close to the man and immediately sensed the blood of Andros.

Rodrig knew where he would find companions for the dragons.

He continued on, walking upwards in the tunnels, toward Upper City.

He rounded a corner to find an angering sight - two burly men attacking a lone woman. One of the men was holding her by the neck, and the other was prying a basket from her fingers. As Rodrig ran up to assist the woman, she pulled a knife out of her cloak and sliced the hands of the man holding her basket and the forearm of the man with his arm around her neck. The man with the wounded arm threw her to the ground, and both men started to advance on her. She pulled another knife from her cloak and began to stand up. Just then, the men saw Rodrig. They ran.

Rodrig went to the woman to help her up. She picked up her basket and turned to look at him.

"Wife?!", Rodrig thought, feeling immediate joy, love, relief, shock, longing, grief, sadness, and hope.

It was Rosaaya.

"Husband?!", Rosaaya thought, feeling immediate joy, love, relief, shock, longing, grief, sadness, and shame.

She looked into his eyes and did not know what to do.

She turned and fled.

Rodrig followed, calling her. He caught up to her and caught her arm, turning her toward him.

"Rosaaya...", he said searchingly, still holding her arm.

She did not know what to say or think. She looked into his face, at this man she had loved and still loved, and began to silently weep.

He put his arms around her.

Rodrig opened his eyes in the dimly lit room. Rosaaya was there, sleeping next to him, breathing softly. He looked at her, so beautiful, and remembered the pain he had seen in her eyes and on her face the previous day. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and moved closer to her to put his arm around her and his face next to her hair.

They had stayed up for long hours, talking as they used to.

She had taken him to her house and immediately set about to preparing a meal. He sensed that she was uncomfortable and trying to stay busy in an attempt to avoid looking at him. He'd started talking about what had happened to him since they'd last seen one another.

As he told his story, Rosaaya became more at ease. She began to ask him questions about the Badlands, laughed at stories he told her of the camp hi-jinks of some men called Ham and Tooth, and congratulated him on being promoted to a supervisor position in the caves.

He had taken a moment to pause and think of a way to explain Lady Dragon to her. He's stumbled ahead, quickly explaining to her about how his men had been killed by the dragon, but the dragon had spared him. At this, she sat down at the table next to him and grabbed his hand. He took a deep breath, preparing for her to become disgusted at and afraid of him once he told her the next part. But, he knew he needed to tell her. He looked into her eyes and told her that he and the dragon could understand one another and that he lived with the dragons on Dragon's Aerie.

She looked back at him, thoughtfully, and - to his surprise - smiled. She scooted her chair closer to his, intertwined her fingers with his and prompted him for more details. He was very relieved at that and excitedly told her everything he could think of about life with the dragons.

He'd talked all the way through their meal, and when they began to feel tired, they went to one of the sleeping areas to relax and continue their chat. They had sat down near each other with their backs propped on pillows against the wall. Everything was fine until he had asked her to lie next to him. Rosaaya's demeanor had changed immediately, she became very guarded and would only respond to his questions with evasive and vague answers. He knew then that she had been hurt, and stopped prodding her for answers.

He took her hand, kissed her fingertips, and told her that he loved her. He sat back up again and went on with his story about dragons, and what he imagined his next course of action would be. He explained why he had come to Hyde, and told her of the rumors he'd heard from the citizens of Lower Hyde. She relaxed some, then, and offered up more information that she had heard as well.

She stood up and went into another room, coming back with a small phial of cloudy green liquid. She handed it to him and told him that she'd received it from soldiers just two days past. She had only taken it from them so as not to arouse suspicions, but was not going to use it because just holding the medicine made her feel strange.

It was then that Rodrig realized that he had tuned out Lady Dragon's senses. He tuned them to Rosaaya.

Rosaaya was of the Blood.

He jumped up and hugged her, excitedly telling her that she could come away with him to Dragon's Aerie if she wished to. She was surprised that he would want her to go with him, and worried that he was teasing her. He held her face in hands and told her that he never wanted to be without her again. He had kissed her as gently and tenderly as he could, then, and she had responded in kind.

Rosaaya stirred and murmured something in her sleep.

Rodrig cozied up to her back as closely as he could and smiled.

The deep toned chants were a ritual when someone passed away, in Grimoirk culture.

There were people in the community whose function was, when necessary as was the case now, to help not only the mourners overcome their loss, but also help the essence of the deceased leave for the Great Unknown Land of He Llaton, the Land of The Recalled.

Aayiana had been a good companion all those years, Pletch-As was sincere on this. But she was not deserving that much, he thought, that he should delay his plans to mourn her.

He shrugged and finished packing an old and wrinkled leather bag with herbs and clothing, a few "tools" of his and water, of course.

He went to the door and opened it unhesitatingly, leaving it open as he passed the surprised group of chanting people, many going silent as Pletch-As was leaving, without saying a word to anyone.

Pletch-As had once saved Marsten from falling into a precipice, a few years ago. It was now time to pay him a visit and push him into another kind of precipice, of Pletch-As' own design.

The multicolored leaves on the ground seemed ironic as Marsten was like a fruit that only needed to be picked up from the ground, and the thought made Pletch-As laugh heartily, leaving the choir behind him now totally silent in disbelief...

Rodrig focused on Lady Dragon, requesting that she come to him.

Rodrig helped Rosaaya gather her meager possessions and secure her house. They followed the tunnels out to the old mining shaft he had entered, and stepped out into a brisk autumn evening. Rodrig stood with his arm around Rosaaya's shoulders and told her not to be afraid, for the dragon would soon be upon them.

Lady Dragon silently swooped in out of the darkness and settled down in front of him. She gave an appraising look at Rosaaya, and they stood for several minutes, caught in an exchange of memories and thoughts.

When Rosaaya and Lady Dragon were finished meeting one another, Rodrig showed Rosaaya how to settle into the makeshift harness. She was excited and looked at this as an adventure. They secured themselves on the back of Lady Dragon and she lifted them up into the cold channels of air, high above the city of Hyde.

They reached Dragon's Aerie in short order and Lady Dragon introduced Rosaaya to the assortment of dragons who were nearby. A small, cobalt blue dragon took interest in Rosaaya and came to look at her. She was not afraid.

Rodrig and Rosaaya built a home for themselves there, on Dragon's Aerie, using materials they gathered from the jungles and using the natural rock formations as cover from the wind and elements.

Rosaaya and the cobalt dragon Bonded, and they spent much time together, learning the way of each other's species. She called him Kyaz, after one of her younger brothers.

Rodrig, meanwhile, began to build an organized housing area for the people of the realm he wanted to bring up as companions for the dragons.

And, thus, they passed several happy weeks in their new home, until one morning they were accosted by Lady Dragon. She showed them a picture of Rosaaya, standing in a nest, holding two babies close to her body. Rodrig and Rosaaya looked at one another, then back at Lady Dragon.

She had just told them they were expecting twins.

They smiled.

Gaeali chuckled silently to himself, rubbed his hands together, and gathered all his goods into one small handbag. The bag was a bottomless pit which held a lifetime's worth of book collection, a laboratory's worth of spell components and processing equipment, a trunk full of disquises, and a whole lot of personal items. He left a letter of resignation on the end table. He rapped the mirror three times, mumbled some inhuman words, sprinkled fairy dust over his head and clicked his heels together. Poof! He disappeaared into the mirror or so it seemed.

Meanwhile, back in the Badlands, Marsten went indoors and re-packed his bag yet again. Disgusted, he threw all the fancy city attire and gear in a heap in the corner and re-packed his bag with mountain climbing clothing and gear.

He headed out the door and was met by the King's men who were here and ready for the quarterly camp inspection.

The Seargant-at-Arms greeted him, "Hail Marsten. I'm Heliope, here for your quarterly inspection. Nice job you've done with the camp here. Building those towers and walls to keep the criminals contained is a great idea. I'll see that you are commended."

Marsten stood silently thinking to himself, "Good! Got them fooled!"

"Nice to make your acquaintance." Marsten said as he extended his hand for a handshake, after which he returned to his silence.

"Jager - Tri - Thorn here and here" said the soldier next to Heliope as he handed Marsten a recipe. "King says everybody is to have this recipe. Have to run ... no time to chat ole boy. Have to hand these out to everyone in the camp." Jager yelled behind his back as he ran quickly away with a huge pouch full of leaflets.

Marsten glanced at the recipe and stuck it in his pocket, easily memorized.

"Okay, ready." Marsten said to Heliope as he grabbed his bag and locked his door, sticking the key in his pocket. "We had a dragon problem here and three good men who were not on the capital punishment list were killed. Those two dozen men over there travelled here to assist; but, didn't get here in time. They have been helping bury all the remains though, so, they've been busy and should be compensated before they are dismissed to return to their families. I'd like to keep them on the payroll if they wish to stay though."

"No, there's no budget for them. You'll have to dismiss them." Heliope replied as he handed a bag of tin coins to one of his couriers and instructed him to go pay and dismiss the extra men. The courier took the bag and followed his orders.

"Next, we haven't been inside the dragon's den since she escaped. We cleaned the bodies out of all the other caverns though. Shall we go inspect now?" Marsten asked the Seargant-at-Arms.

"She?" Heliope asked.

"Yes, she. We call her Lady Dragon because of the conspicuous over-indulgence in jewelry she wears." Marsten replied.

"Sure, let's go." Heliope said and the rest of the soldiers followed along.

On the way up, Marsten noticed a knife handle sticking out of the ground. He picked it up and stuck it in his boot while feigning to sit down and dump a rock out of his boot. The King's men didn't notice.

Once inside the cavern, the mayhem was repulsive, sickening and worse. The stench of long-rotting bodies almost smothered all who entered, along with the sulfer smell of the rotting dragon eggs. Everybody grabbed a hanky and covered their noses, tying it behind their head like a bandana.

They rounded the corner and went through another opening into the dragon's den. "Oh my Gallopin' Snails!" "I'll be a Frozen Kahoozawit!" "Kriminey - SO MUCH GOLD!" The men were all astounded at the enormity of the dragon's horde.

Heliope turned to Marsten, lowered his mask long enough to say, "Here's your salary. That'll be all, thank you." and dismissed Marsten with a smile that went earlobe to earlobe and a fistful of gold coins he had scooped up by his feet.

Marsten was glad THAT was over! Now, off to Old Blue he'd go. Out of the cavern, to the top of the crest, out the gate and into the wild blue yonder.

She felt the Season of Parturition oncoming.

She wove her soul-Wind to tell the Andros of her need to return to her den. She had not returned since the Feast, because she could no longer sense the young ones she had been nurturing there. For the past nine Seasons, this had happened. She did not know the reason, only that she would return from her Feast, satisfied by the many morsels she would find throughout the caverns of her home, and the young ones were no longer living.

She believed it must be her own fault; she had never had a problem bringing forth the young before she had retired to her lair for the successive Seasons of Quiescence. Perhaps this time would be different, since she would be able to nest in the winds on the shoulders of the Mother and under the watchful eye of Father Sun.

She roared to the others that she would return and they must behave in her absence. They acknowledged her request. She was the largest of all of them and they would obey her, upon penalty of death. She did not enjoy the extinguishing of their heart-suns by the tears of the Mother, but it would be done if necessary.

She made sure her Andros and his mate understood that she would not return to them for several risings of Father Sun, and showed them that she must prepare her den and rouse her mate before returning.

They used their soul-Winds to acknowledge her need and show that they would be fine in her absence.

She spread her wings and soared from the shoulders of the Mother, toward her den.

By the following day, Heliope had a small army of men in a fireman's type relay, moving all the dragon's gold into the King's caravan wagons.

Kamen yelled out, "Dragon incoming!"

All of the King's men pulled their jars of Dragonbane out of their pockets and coated their arrow tips and swords just in time.

As Lady Dragon soared proudly over the cavern, her lavish jewelry dripping from her neck and everywhere else was sparkling against the bright sunlight.

Arrows all locked, loaded and fired, Lady Dragon was peppered with hundreds of arrows and fell to her death in a thunderous BOOM!

The King's men swooped down upon her corpse to gather all the finery she wore. Nothing was wasted. Her skin was stripped for Dragon Armor, her meat was divvied up amongst the King's men. Her scales were bagged for the armor smith's finest shields. Her bones were disjointed and packed on wagons for the artisans and weaponsmiths. Nary shred was wasted. Even the eyes were placed in a preserving jar for a special person.

The King would be so pleased!

He heard her calling to him.

She, mated to his heart-Sun, had awakened.

He swirled around in the blood of the Mother to cleanse the sludge and crusted rock that had gathered on his scales during his Season of Quiescence. He rose from his bed and flew up to perch on the edge of the mouth of the volcano to check his wings for damage.

He heard her calling in distress.

Immediately, he took flight.

She sent him images of morsels upon her and hurting her, and images of the Andros she had left upon the shoulders of the Mother. He felt her pain and her sadness.

Then, she was silent.

When he came upon her home, he found many morsels scurrying about. He saw the remains of her corpse, broken and dissembled in their carts.

His heart-Sun flared.

He left none standing.

He burned the remains of his beloved, ensuring they were complete ash before ceasing the flames of his heart-Sun. He could do nothing more, and saw to it that her ashes were spread around the land surrounding her lair. She was again one with the Mother.

He knew these had been morsels from the Black Fist. He had borne them for nearly a millenium, out of respect for the Andros. But, he could bear them no longer.

He turned and flew to the Black Fist.

When he landed, he stood atop the Fist and roared his loudest, voicing his pain and grief at the loss of his treasured mate.

He heard the morsels screaming and felt their fear.

He went to the various windows and chimneys and doors and gardens and covered everything with fire. He felt the walls of the Fist, which he had helped build, heat up under his talons.

He did not leave his task until every morsel he could sense was no longer alive.

He went down to the city surrounding the fist, and spared none.

Again, he roared.

He soared into the sky and went to the shoulders of the Mother, weaving his soul-Wind to reach the Andros.

He found them, two Andros his mate had shown him.

The Andros who had been Bonded to his mate stepped forward.

They looked into one another’s eyes and came to an understanding.

Rodrig felt the death of Lady Dragon, acutely and deeply.

He felt her pain and her sorrow and saw who had murdered her.

He was not surprised when the behemoth red-orange dragon arrived.

They had heard his vocalizations and seen his massive form over Hyde; they had seen his flames and the smoke rising from the Black Fist.

Rodrig was surprised by the size of this He-Dragon, whom he could not think of anything to call other than Dragon. For this He-Dragon was incomparable to any other. He dwarfed Lady Dragon by comparison. Rodrig could not tilt his head far enough back to look at the dragon’s face, Dragon was so large.

Dragon lowered his head to gaze at Rodrig.

Rodrig and Dragon were now one.

The people of Hyde’s Lower City cowered in their tunnels. They heard the terrifying, deafening roars coming from Upper City. They felt the very rock of their home shaking and shifting with the sounds.

They began to feel an intense heat from the gateway between their home and Upper City. Everyone fled from the higher tunnels. They followed the tunnels as far down into the mountain as they could go, down even deeper than the mushroom plots. Even here, they could hear the roaring. Children cried, old women patted their hearts, old men began to tell tales of angry dragons they had seen or slain in their youths, when they had lived in the villages outside of Hyde.

There they stayed for several hours after the roaring had subsided.

A few brave souls ventured out into the higher tunnels. When they did not return, others began to follow.

Everyone went toward the gateway between the two cities to assess the damage.

They emerged into the day to find the utter destruction of Upper City.

All was quiet.

They cheered.

The villagers of Eastermore who had been on their way out of the work camp witnessed the blue-black dragon’s arrival and subsequent death in horror. They had packed up their things the next morning, and headed out of the camp. They knew the soldiers would be coming around to gloat about the dragon. They didn’t want any trouble.

The villagers had reached the nearest stand of Biloto trees when they saw a red shape in the far off distance. They knew this was another dragon, and so hid among the trees and underbrush to wait for the dragon to pass. They felt the shadow of the dragon pass them, and it took a full two minutes for the shadow to pass. The villagers whispered among themselves that this must be the dead dragon’s mate.

They heard his roaring and smelled burning flesh. They all agreed that they must remain near the camp for the time being, in case they needed to run back behind the walls for safety. It was dusk before they ventured from their hiding places. They and the citizens of the camp went toward the caverns to see what had happened.

All they found was charred, blackened earth and ash strewn all about the land. The soldiers and their carts were nowhere to be seen. Some of the bolder camp citizens thought that perhaps the soldiers had taken refuge in the caves and decided they would take a look-see.

They found only the old, rotted corpses of the criminals. They followed the caverns as far back as they could, and eventually stumbled upon the She-Dragon’s lair.

They wandered around in disbelief and wonder – here was the solution to all of their problems. They could finally be free of the Black Fist and of the King. They could make their own kingdom.

They ran back outside to tell the gathered citizens and villagers what they had found. Several people volunteered to venture back into the caves to burn the remaining corpses. They took many dry Biloto fronds, flints, and torches and went to the furthest caverns in the network, burning their way back to the cavern entrances, then closed off the entrance with boulders to contain the fires.

Soon, they would be able to inhabit the caverns and put their new-found wealth to good use.

They set to clearing the as from around the caverns and found many buried gold pieces and gems.

The villagers were invited to stay on and receive equal portions of the wealth as well. They would have many stories to tell their families when they returned home.

Marsten had just passed the Dragon's-Eye Volcano on his way to Old Blue when he saw the shadow of a large dragon which passed between the sun and his location. He turned to look skyward; but, saw nothing as the dragon was traveling quite quickly and soon disappeared into the distance and the bright glaring sun obscured any hope of catching a glimpse.

As the vultures were finishing off the remains of Pearls-Before-Swine and the black He-dragon was attacking the King's men; a very large black crow dived in amongst the mayhem and snatched the vial of pickled dragon eyes. He left with his prize and headed off on a diversionary route so that none would know where he was taking the oddity. Nobody noticed the insignificant yet odd black crow amongst all the other black avians.

After the dragon raid, Narnook-the-Lost took command of the criminals sentenced to the Badlands. The pigeon trainers and any who could scrawl a simple note were summoned. Carrier pigeons took word of the attack on the King's men to all the corners of the kingdom. The sky was filled with birds going this way and that.

Within hours, pigeons were returning with news of the attack on the Black Fist. Narnook read the messages to the people of the Badlands and they all cheered. They were free. Free to return home to their families and loved ones if they would have them. Others decided that the Badlands was home for them and chose to stay and build a town they would call Hub because the Badlands were the hub of the realm.

After a second round of sending out fresh pigeon carriers with news of the destruction of the Black Fist to all the corners of the kingdom, Narnook's work was done and they called it a day.

About Achen-Krat-Brak

Achen-Krat-Brak is the dragon tongue name for the holding sphere which humanoid inhabitants call Layalor. The mountainous hold lies directly Northwest of Drar-Knocht-Rhen and is inhabited by humans, greedy dwarves and several dragons.

The humans tend to rule themselves and keep themselves separate from the Dhokt-Grin, their word for the dwarven-kind who live underground. Queen Jayna of the Azure Glen rules the humans in conjunction with a council of twelve from each of the twelve districts. The twelve districts are named after and sectioned according to the twelve most prominent and largest mountains.

The dwarves are ruled by a dictator called Gugen-Grip who won his seat through mortal combat, as is the tradition of the Vigkts, the name the dwarves call their own race.

When word reached Achen-Krat-Brak of the fall of Drar-Knocht-Rhen, Queen Jayna sent an Emissary of Goodwill to ascertain the needs of the survivors of the neighboring hold while her dwarven counterpart, Gugen-Grip, sent a squad of hardened skirmishers and scouts, and a platoon (five squads) of battle-ready Grips (melee warriors) to seize the capital of Drar-Knocht-Rhen and Hyde.

More About Achen-Krat-Brak

The Land of a Dozen Mountain Peaks is a spectacularly beautiful area, breathtaking in every respect. The humans live in the lush and fertile valleys between the mountain ranges. The ice-capped mountains provide a steady trickle of melting water which flow down waterfalls and into streams and rivers in the valleys below.

Mountain goats, alpaca, llamas and bighorn sheep dot the mountainsides and thrive despite the abundant population of their main predator - the mountain lions which are also called cougars.

The humans trade in heavy woven fabrics and clothing made from the Summer sheering of the native alpaca, llamas and bighorn sheep which are semi-domesticated. The creatures live free of borders and fences and all the trappings of regular domesticated animals.

Mountain goat cheese is more common and popular than that of cows.

Fishing is abundant in the late Spring to early Winter. Much of the catch is smoked and dried for the lean and harsh Winter months.

The dwarve's mines do not deface the mountainside like they do in non-dwarven mining areas such as on Old Blue in the neighboring sphere. Instead, the dwarves have a well fortified mountain entrance limited to one per district. All of the mining, smelting and smithing is carried out deep inside the mountain caverns.

The humans are reknowned bowyers, fletchers and archers while their dwarven counterparts are reknowned for melee weapons and armor. The unique symbiotic relationship between the two diverse cultures has existed for as long as any remember.

The humans and dwarves trade their wares in monthly markets and fairs, one per district. The districts alternate their market days and fairs so that traveling merchants have a regular circuit to keep them busy, even in the harshest of Winters.

Late the next evening, Marsten arrived at Old Blue. The miners, smelters and smiths had already retired for the night. Marsten thought it unwise to stumble around on unfamiliar loose rock in the dark so he set up his pup tent, rolled out his sleeping bag and curled up on the spot.

Around midnight, a fierce storm rolled in. Lightning arced its wicked tentacles across the sky, thunder boomed like a military drum band, and rained poured buckets. Marsten was soaked, cold and shivering. After a few hours, the storm cleared out and Marsten tried to go to sleep again. It was no use. His sleeping bag was soaked, he was soaked, and it was cold and miserable.

Finally, dawn arrived and the gold mining camp was stirring back to life. From the sound of the chit-chat, it was apparent the miners had received word of the devastations around Fjüllwald. Without a King, there was no need of gold. Commoners can't use gold. They can't eat it, wear it, or turn it into a roof over their heads. Nobody wanted gold except Kings and Dragons. Gold was useless; but, the miners continued to mine anyway. Mining is all they ever knew.

Marsten packed up his sopping wet gear. It was a lot heavier now that it was soaked. He checked his pockets to make sure the rings were still there and then headed toward the jeweler's hut. The tiny wooden hut had three windows and a cute sign that read, "Gavelrings and Other Gold Things" and on the next line, "Master Jeweler - Corbeaner."

Marsten marched inside, "Hail, I am looking for Master Corbeaner."

"Master Corbeaner at your service. What can I do for you young man?" Corbeaner said as his jeweler's eyeglass fell expertly into his waiting hand.

Marsten pulled the two rings out of his pocket and placed them in the jeweler's other hand. "Have you ever seen these? Any idea who made them? Who ordered them?"

Corbeaner replugged his monocle eyeglass into his left eye and squinted to hold it in tight. He examined the rings and the markings and said, "I'm not certain; but, they surely look like my Pa's work. See those three tiny scratch marks? Pa's trademark or a darned good imitation which I highly doubt because any who could forge a ring of this quality would have no need to counterfeit. I'd say it was Pa's work, yes." he said as he handed back the rings.

"Anything else you can tell me? Your Pa perhaps?" asked Marsten.

"No, I'm afraid not. Pa passed away about eight years back. Oh wait, he kept records. My time is valuable though, and record searching will keep me from my day's work you see." Corbeaner replied and hinted openly.

"I see", said Marsten as he pulled a gold piece out of his pocket and placed it on the counter, "Will this cover your day's earnings?"

"Yes, yes indeed it will", said Corbeaner as he snarfed the gold piece quickly into his pocket and added, "I bet I could get those records for you in a jiffy."

Corbeaner went behind the curtained wall and scrambled around some papers loudly, then came back out with two receipts in hand. "The plain man's ring was ordered seventeen years ago by a Mister Pletch-As and the inscribed broom maiden's ring was ordered a year ago by King Fjüllwald's court wizard Gaeali" said Corbeaner. He added, "I guess my father only made one of these rings. I forgot, I made the lady's broom maiden ring. Will that be all?"

Marsten had a puzzled look on his face, then asked, "Are there any sorcerers up here at Old Blue?"

"No, not really" replied Master Corbeaner as a black crow flew in one of the open windows and dropped two dragon eyeballs in a ceramic bowl. The crow flew out of the window and off into clouds.

Marsten noticed and said skeptically, "And just who would those be for?" as he pointed at the dragon eyeballs which were still rolling around, bouncing off of each other in the bowl.

"Oh those, yes, those were for a special order." Corbeaner nonchalantly replied.

"For whom may I ask?" said Marsten.

"For Gaeali of course." was the reply.

"And just where might I find this Gaeali, now that the Black Fist has been leveled?"

"Oh, I forgot, yes. He stays up here at the camp for now; though, he's just waiting for the dragon eyeballs to be processed. After that, I have no idea where he will go." Corbeaner said quickly.

"What will they be processed into? They are too large for jewelry." asked Marsten.

"Simple enough, a pair of gazing balls on gold stands. Now, if that is all, I have work to do." said Corbeaner abruptly as he grabbed the two dragon eyeballs and went behind his curtained wall to begin his next work.

Marsten left the jeweler's hut to search for Gaeali but there was no need. Gaeali strode up to the hut as if in a hurry. It was apparent by his attire that he was the now deceased King's wizard.

"Hold up right there." commanded Marsten to Gaeali.

(Continued next post - out of characters)