Kalak Rising - Preamble

It doesn't hurt anymore Harn thought to himself. He knew this was both good, and bad. A Mul of the Ard-Thras, one of the major Gladius Houses of Raam - he was one of the best trained fighters of Gathric's Ludus, but he was no match for the Nameless One, the massive Half Giant from distant Nibeney. Ever since the match, he'd been drifting in and out of consciousness. Broken on the outside and in, it was only his Mul heritage; being comprised of equal parts toughness and stubborness, that kept him alive.

He could still see Gathric's face - searching his own, before he rose and headed back towards the massive mellikot, which had carried him - and two others, the elf maiden Oma and a pulped human male he'd never met before. He was unable to turn his head and watch as the mellikot rode out of his field of view.

They'd been given to the desert. Too badly hurt to offset the costs of healing and rehabilitation. The Law of Raam was clear, though there were few to enforce it - when death was near, the Blood Price was to be paid. A waste of decent blood, but it was the Law. Hurt as he was he could still hear the steady breathing of Oma. Unconscious but not as badly hurt as she seemed. The human was another matter. his breathing was short, and wet. He was broken on the inside too, and with each labored breath he could hear a bit of the man's life leak out.

He tried to move for the thousandth time. He failed. His neck was very badly broken, though the pain was gone now. It maddenned him that he wanted so terribly to scratch his leg. Why would he need to scratch something he could not feel? Resigned he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but sleep would not come. Badly broken, his heritage demanded he fight. But the damage was too much. So awake and alert, he waited.

He didn't wait long. On his cheek he could feel the tremors. One of the great worms was coming, drawn by the human's blood. Years ago he's spied one from the city wall, its massive body ridges rising above the sands. And now he'd be eaten by one. At least it would be over. Again he triede to move. Again his broken body would not.

The vibrations were more intense now, he blinked his eyes at the sudden sands spraying about. Then he saw a looming shadow. This was no worm! This eyes flew wide in wonder, and terror.

This, was a Dragon!

Very promising beginning! I hope this story hour will be continued for some time as we really need a good Dark Sun journal here on these boards. Unfortunately, it seems that the latest one, written by Iron Sky, seems to have been discontinued, so I am setting in my hope in you. Keep up with it!

like the revenant it was, the muscle, flesh and sinew was dried and brittle, yet it's sheer force was overwhelming. Clearly not alive, clearly not dead - the ancient creature clearly existed on that precipice in the middle. He'd never seen one, he'd only heard stories. The last Dragon, Borys, was slain nearly have his life gone, and Borys was the last living Dragon for hundreds, if not thousands of years. Being a Mul, Harn could feel fear - but it held no sway over him. The huge hinged mouth first scooped up the dying human, then almost daintily it's dessecated tongue reached to wrap around Oma's still form and she was gone. Lumbering, the creature moved to Harn - and in it's faming eye he could see a terrible intelligence. The beast studied him for a long moment before it took him too into it's yawning jaws. Darkness, burning and a pain so intense that even Harn's Mul fortitude was overwhelmed immediately followed.... then finally, nothing.

Pangs of hunger and a mouthwatering smell was not what Harn expected of the afterlife. In fact since the gods had long abandoned Athas, he'd long abandoned them. Hath, his Sire, had taught all the young of their Stable - there is only faith in blood - and he had his whole life held to that edict. After the nothing... was nothing. Yet here he was ravenously hungry. And that damned itch was back. He reached down to scratch.

And froze. He opened his eyes and at first there was only a reddish haze, but after blinking a few times he realized it was the dancing light cast by a fire. He could move. He scratched and turned his head, and turn it did! He felt weak and a fresh born Stone Lizard, but he could feel!

"Welcome back to the living" said a friendly voice in the Tradespeak common to the lower classes of Raam. He swivled his head and was surprised to see the nameless broken human who was with him and Oma - offered to the desert.

Like your introduction to the story hour, looking forward to reading more.