Bitterness Overcome: (Now A Completed Story!)

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Thirteen: UNDER THE DRAGON’S CLAW

Inside the cave, Charis could feel a large force of people coming towards the entrance. She noted that they moved quietly for an entire village. At the same time, the sheer number of them could not help but reverberate through the solid ground. Although her ears denied it, her legs and feet told her that a large mass of people had entered the underground passageway and were moving through the mountain tunnel entrance. There could only be one explanation. The villagers had made it.

Charis lifted her oil lamp from the ground and turned the brass knob so that the wick was lowered closer to the oil. With less wick exposed to the air, the light cast from the lamp decreased. The horses at once sensed her caution but one by one she stroked their sides to keep them calm. She knew that it would only be a matter of seconds before the lead portion of the group would approach the entrance to the side cavern in which she and the food had been hidden.

At the presence of the vibration, Darrok looked to Charis for confirmation of what he also felt. He remained bound; but his position on the floor allowed him to feel the vibrations even more accurately than Charis. When he noticed that she lowered the wick so that the light was reduced he knew that his suspicions were right. She was going to be cautious and try to remain hidden. The interesting part of his predicament was that it was likely in his best interest to remain hidden as well. If the vibrations were from the villagers, they would not have pity upon him since he had attempted to ruin their escape. If the vibrations were from some other force it would be likely that they would overcome Charis and he wouldn’t escape. For right now, he had no choice but to put his faith and trust in Charis’ hands.

The noise slowed outside the chamber as confusion began to win over the force coming into the mountain. Charis began to recognize the familiar voices of her long time friends. She allowed the light from her lamp to pass through the chamber and spill out into the main tunnel. She approached the main passageway and allowed the light to intensify in strength. She could tell that the villagers had been slowed by the narrowing of the tunnel with respect to the forest passageway through which they had been traveling. It took longer than she hoped to get the villagers completely inside the entrance.

Charis greeted the villagers once she was sure it was indeed who she expected. “Welcome! It is imperative that you come in down the tunnel as far as possible. For your safety, you must make sure you are out of the range of his fiery breath. Those in the front must continue to push on until all are safe.”

The ability to give orders to these people began to naturally return to her. When she had been the Provenience for these people she had begun to take up the role of domination over them. However, now she desired to lead them without dominating over them. It was a different feeling to be sure.

The crowd moved beyond her until they had all passed her by. As they moved, several of the women gave Charis a hug and said a quick blessing over her. With each embrace Charis returned the greeting and felt her confidence grow. It felt good to know that her people had come thus far safely. Her joy was unsurpassable knowing that her dragon father had finally been defeated after so much time. As a village, they had spent so many years living under the evil lies which originated out of his scheming machinations.

Once the villagers had made it to the mountain passage, Xando allowed the people to enter while he directed the villagers from the rear. As their leader, he wanted to be sure that all made it safely into the tunnels. When they had all moved past Charis and the tunnel he called out for a halt. “That’s far enough, Drakontai. Rest here while I speak to Charis and Ischarus.” Of course, the directions were spoken in their native draconic tongue. It was the only language that all of the villagers innately knew. Some had learned the common tongue of Tongra while others had not.

Charis greeted Xando with a hug. Xando began to cry a few tears of gladness as he embraced her warmly. Once they released, Xando began to look around the secret alcove where the food was stored. He spoke with an intense curiosity. “Is Ischarus not going to greet us today?”

Charis thought that she detected a slight tone of disappointment in his voice. A thin smile fell over her lips. It was the kind of smile that indicated she knew something that he did not. “Ischarus had a separate journey to accomplish. He left some time ago and I honestly do not know when to expect him back. I assure you that he will return. In fact, his return will mark the time that we should begin to prepare to leave into Tongra. He believes he can pave the way to our freedom.”

Xando looked a bit concerned. His eyebrows wrinkled as he tried to think through what Charis was telling to him. “Isn’t Ischarus your protector? Who will protect the people?”

Charis tried to hide her smile. Apparently Xando had forgotten her own skill and the art of combat. “Yes, Ischarus is the one who is most responsible for protection when we travel. But you will be protected by me, my new god, and the magical powers of Semeion combined with Rhema’s enchantments. Besides, not many natural predators of the tunnels will come near a force this size.”

While she spoke, there was a sound of hooves at the tunnel entrance. Charis looked up and identified the rider as she approached. Rhema rode in first followed by a horse with no rider in the saddle. Elistra carried another woman into the tunnels. Charis could only assume this was the new Provenience that had been called on to replace her in that position when Charis was taken from the village.

Rhema spoke strongly, and there was pain in her voice. “We need to speak, Charis. Your voice carries up this tunnel well. We could hear your conversation.” Rhema wasn’t sure how to address the loss of Semeion so she hoped to deflect the issue until it could not be avoided.

Unfortunately for Rhema, Charis picked up on the fact that Semeion was missing immediately. Her face turned pale and her skin grew cold. “Rhema, where’s Semeion?” Her eyes darted back and forth between Rhema and the horse without a rider. Once the horses drew even closer she could tell that it was Thana who went without anyone upon her back. Her lips parted to speak once more but the words would not come.

Xando could only imagine that this story would not have a pleasant end. He was already close to Charis from the hug they had exchange only moments ago. He reached out and embraced her again as Rhema rode up beside her and dismounted. Charis clung to Xando as both Thana and Shauvry drew nearer.

Rhema’s feet softly landed upon the floor as she dismounted Shauvry in a very smooth manner. Looking to the villagers she found a boy that looked keenly interested in the horses. “Xando, would you mind asking that boy to take the horses into the storage cave and put them with Abijou?”

As Xando nodded in reply, Charis added another layer of command. “And make sure he knows to stay away from Darrok.”

The new Provenience was keenly interested in the mention of her father. “My father is here?

Charis ignored the question, but Rhema turned to address the new Provenience. “He is here, but there is much we need to talk about as well.” Rhema looked to Xando and he seemed to understand the glance.

Xando released Charis and moved slowly to where the new Provenience sat atop Elistra. As he moved, he spotted the boy that Rhema had indicated earlier. With a motion and a quick glance he got the boy to follow him. He brought Elistra’s reigns to the boy’s level and explained that he should take the horse into the alcove and return without speaking to anyone. Once the boy understood, Xando helped the new Provenience down the ground and kept a careful watch over her while Rhema and Charis spoke.

Rhema looked to the floor as she began speaking. “I don’t think Semeion will be coming back to Tongra with us, Charis.” It probably wasn’t the best way to approach the topic, but Rhema could think of no better way under the circumstances. Charis could see for herself that Semeion was not present.

Charis immediately began to cry at the words she dreaded hearing. “But, why not? What happened? It was supposed to be a simple mission of retrieving the Provenience that replaced me.”

Rhema nodded and looked into Charis’ eyes. “I know, Charis. I know. The new Provenience has a talent that neither Semeion nor I expected. We are sure she is pregnant with at least one unborn child, and it may well have given her a unique gift. She could breathe fire just like your dragon father.”

Charis continued to cry, but she also returned Rhema’s stare. “Many of my people carry the marks of my dragon father. In many ways even my own gifts are derived from his power. There are even a few among the villagers that we rescued that have such power. But I don’t understand how …”

Rhema embraced Charis in a hug once she realized Charis was trying her best to block the pain and explain away the truth. “The new Provenience was resistant. She was intent on killing us both. Semeion sacrificed himself so that she would be forced to see that the village had been abandoned. He stood on the dragon’s perch and forced her to join him to attack. She breathed out her fire in an attack and Semeion was gone.”

Charis clutched at the immediate hope found in the story. “Perhaps he went over the edge?”

Charis meant to say more but Rhema cut her off. “I thought the same thing when the new Provenience had breathed upon him. I had hoped that maybe he lost his footing and fell. But I looked, Charis. I looked for him and couldn’t see any way out. The mountain face is steep under the dragon’s perch and when it does become less steep it is covered in trees. He would have either hit the rock face or crashed into the trees below. It was easily at least a thirty foot drop to the trees and there’s no telling how much more below that.”

Charis fought back the tears even harder. She bit her lower lip to resist the urge to cry harder as Rhema forced her to accept the truth. “His magic? Could his magic have saved him?”

Rhema shook her head and allowed Charis to bury her head into Rhema’s shoulder. “I don’t know, Charis. I don’t understand magic as well as Semeion did. But have you ever seen him use teleportation magic? I haven’t. I didn’t think he was that strong.”

Charis cried a bit harder now. “No, he could not master it yet. That was one thing he said to me after we visited Fingerdale. He told me that as soon as he was ready then he was going to ask Brandt to teach him a teleportation spell. It never happened. He knew that he wasn’t ready yet.”

Charis continued to cry hard against Rhema’s shoulder. Rhema could sense that she had worn herself out trying to think up new reasons to find hope. Slowly, each possibility had been exhausted. The only truth that remained was that Semeion had caught the effects of the new Provenience’s breath and had fallen to his doom. He must have fallen out of Rhema’s sight.

Xando stood patiently by Charis and Rhema as Rhema recounted the story. The new Provenience seemed deeply moved by the fact that she had directly caused Charis’ pain and Rhema saw that the new Provenience was being deeply affected. Once Rhema could sense that the new Provenience had seen enough, she motioned for Xando to lead her into the alcove to meet with her father.

Xando knew that he would need to restrain her. Darrok would likely be satisfied upon seeing his daughter, but it would be safest to keep him bound as well. Soon enough they would both be free. But the time was not quite ready to bring that possibility into existence.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]Chapter Thirteen: UNDER THE DRAGON’S CLAW

Inside the cave, Charis could feel a large force of people coming towards the entrance. She noted that they moved quietly for an entire village. At the same time, the sheer number of them could not help but reverberate through the solid ground. Although her ears denied it, her legs and feet told her that a large mass of people had entered the underground passageway and were moving through the mountain tunnel entrance. There could only be one explanation. The villagers had made it.

Charis lifted her oil lamp from the ground and turned the brass knob so that the wick was lowered closer to the oil. With less wick exposed to the air, the light cast from the lamp decreased. The horses at once sensed her caution but one by one she stroked their sides to keep them calm. She knew that it would only be a matter of seconds before the lead portion of the group would approach the entrance to the side cavern in which she and the food had been hidden.

At the presence of the vibration, Darrok looked to Charis for confirmation of what he also felt. He remained bound; but his position on the floor allowed him to feel the vibrations even more accurately than Charis. When he noticed that she lowered the wick so that the light was reduced he knew that his suspicions were right. She was going to be cautious and try to remain hidden. The interesting part of his predicament was that it was likely in his best interest to remain hidden as well. If the vibrations were from the villagers, they would not have pity upon him since he had attempted to ruin their escape. If the vibrations were from some other force it would be likely that they would overcome Charis and he wouldn’t escape. For right now, he had no choice but to put his faith and trust in Charis’ hands.

The noise slowed outside the chamber as confusion began to win over the force coming into the mountain. Charis began to recognize the familiar voices of her long time friends. She allowed the light from her lamp to pass through the chamber and spill out into the main tunnel. She approached the main passageway and allowed the light to intensify in strength. She could tell that the villagers had been slowed by the narrowing of the tunnel with respect to the forest passageway through which they had been traveling. It took longer than she hoped to get the villagers completely inside the entrance.

Charis greeted the villagers once she was sure it was indeed who she expected. “Welcome! It is imperative that you come in down the tunnel as far as possible. For your safety, you must make sure you are out of the range of his fiery breath. Those in the front must continue to push on until all are safe.”

The ability to give orders to these people began to naturally return to her. When she had been the Provenience for these people she had begun to take up the role of domination over them. However, now she desired to lead them without dominating over them. It was a different feeling to be sure.

The crowd moved beyond her until they had all passed her by. As they moved, several of the women gave Charis a hug and said a quick blessing over her. With each embrace Charis returned the greeting and felt her confidence grow. It felt good to know that her people had come thus far safely. Her joy was unsurpassable knowing that her dragon father had finally been defeated after so much time. As a village, they had spent so many years living under the evil lies which originated out of his scheming machinations.

Once the villagers had made it to the mountain passage, Xando allowed the people to enter while he directed the villagers from the rear. As their leader, he wanted to be sure that all made it safely into the tunnels. When they had all moved past Charis and the tunnel he called out for a halt. “That’s far enough, Drakontai. Rest here while I speak to Charis and Ischarus.” Of course, the directions were spoken in their native draconic tongue. It was the only language that all of the villagers innately knew. Some had learned the common tongue of Tongra while others had not.

Charis greeted Xando with a hug. Xando began to cry a few tears of gladness as he embraced her warmly. Once they released, Xando began to look around the secret alcove where the food was stored. He spoke with an intense curiosity. “Is Ischarus not going to greet us today?”

Charis thought that she detected a slight tone of disappointment in his voice. A thin smile fell over her lips. It was the kind of smile that indicated she knew something that he did not. “Ischarus had a separate journey to accomplish. He left some time ago and I honestly do not know when to expect him back. I assure you that he will return. In fact, his return will mark the time that we should begin to prepare to leave into Tongra. He believes he can pave the way to our freedom.”

Xando looked a bit concerned. His eyebrows wrinkled as he tried to think through what Charis was telling to him. “Isn’t Ischarus your protector? Who will protect the people?”

Charis tried to hide her smile. Apparently Xando had forgotten her own skill and the art of combat. “Yes, Ischarus is the one who is most responsible for protection when we travel. But you will be protected by me, my new god, and the magical powers of Semeion combined with Rhema’s enchantments. Besides, not many natural predators of the tunnels will come near a force this size.”

While she spoke, there was a sound of hooves at the tunnel entrance. Charis looked up and identified the rider as she approached. Rhema rode in first followed by a horse with no rider in the saddle. Elistra carried another woman into the tunnels. Charis could only assume this was the new Provenience that had been called on to replace her in that position when Charis was taken from the village.

Rhema spoke strongly, and there was pain in her voice. “We need to speak, Charis. Your voice carries up this tunnel well. We could hear your conversation.” Rhema wasn’t sure how to address the loss of Semeion so she hoped to deflect the issue until it could not be avoided.

Unfortunately for Rhema, Charis picked up on the fact that Semeion was missing immediately. Her face turned pale and her skin grew cold. “Rhema, where’s Semeion?” Her eyes darted back and forth between Rhema and the horse without a rider. Once the horses drew even closer she could tell that it was Thana who went without anyone upon her back. Her lips parted to speak once more but the words would not come.

Xando could only imagine that this story would not have a pleasant end. He was already close to Charis from the hug they had exchange only moments ago. He reached out and embraced her again as Rhema rode up beside her and dismounted. Charis clung to Xando as both Thana and Shauvry drew nearer.

Rhema’s feet softly landed upon the floor as she dismounted Shauvry in a very smooth manner. Looking to the villagers she found a boy that looked keenly interested in the horses. “Xando, would you mind asking that boy to take the horses into the storage cave and put them with Abijou?”

As Xando nodded in reply, Charis added another layer of command. “And make sure he knows to stay away from Darrok.”

The new Provenience was keenly interested in the mention of her father. “My father is here?

Charis ignored the question, but Rhema turned to address the new Provenience. “He is here, but there is much we need to talk about as well.” Rhema looked to Xando and he seemed to understand the glance.

Xando released Charis and moved slowly to where the new Provenience sat atop Elistra. As he moved, he spotted the boy that Rhema had indicated earlier. With a motion and a quick glance he got the boy to follow him. He brought Elistra’s reigns to the boy’s level and explained that he should take the horse into the alcove and return without speaking to anyone. Once the boy understood, Xando helped the new Provenience down the ground and kept a careful watch over her while Rhema and Charis spoke.

Rhema looked to the floor as she began speaking. “I don’t think Semeion will be coming back to Tongra with us, Charis.” It probably wasn’t the best way to approach the topic, but Rhema could think of no better way under the circumstances. Charis could see for herself that Semeion was not present.

Charis immediately began to cry at the words she dreaded hearing. “But, why not? What happened? It was supposed to be a simple mission of retrieving the Provenience that replaced me.”

Rhema nodded and looked into Charis’ eyes. “I know, Charis. I know. The new Provenience has a talent that neither Semeion nor I expected. We are sure she is pregnant with at least one unborn child, and it may well have given her a unique gift. She could breathe fire just like your dragon father.”

Charis continued to cry, but she also returned Rhema’s stare. “Many of my people carry the marks of my dragon father. In many ways even my own gifts are derived from his power. There are even a few among the villagers that we rescued that have such power. But I don’t understand how …”

Rhema embraced Charis in a hug once she realized Charis was trying her best to block the pain and explain away the truth. “The new Provenience was resistant. She was intent on killing us both. Semeion sacrificed himself so that she would be forced to see that the village had been abandoned. He stood on the dragon’s perch and forced her to join him to attack. She breathed out her fire in an attack and Semeion was gone.”

Charis clutched at the immediate hope found in the story. “Perhaps he went over the edge?”

Charis meant to say more but Rhema cut her off. “I thought the same thing when the new Provenience had breathed upon him. I had hoped that maybe he lost his footing and fell. But I looked, Charis. I looked for him and couldn’t see any way out. The mountain face is steep under the dragon’s perch and when it does become less steep it is covered in trees. He would have either hit the rock face or crashed into the trees below. It was easily at least a thirty foot drop to the trees and there’s no telling how much more below that.”

Charis fought back the tears even harder. She bit her lower lip to resist the urge to cry harder as Rhema forced her to accept the truth. “His magic? Could his magic have saved him?”

Rhema shook her head and allowed Charis to bury her head into Rhema’s shoulder. “I don’t know, Charis. I don’t understand magic as well as Semeion did. But have you ever seen him use teleportation magic? I haven’t. I didn’t think he was that strong.”

Charis cried a bit harder now. “No, he could not master it yet. That was one thing he said to me after we visited Fingerdale. He told me that as soon as he was ready then he was going to ask Brandt to teach him a teleportation spell. It never happened. He knew that he wasn’t ready yet.”

Charis continued to cry hard against Rhema’s shoulder. Rhema could sense that she had worn herself out trying to think up new reasons to find hope. Slowly, each possibility had been exhausted. The only truth that remained was that Semeion had caught the effects of the new Provenience’s breath and had fallen to his doom. He must have fallen out of Rhema’s sight.

Xando stood patiently by Charis and Rhema as Rhema recounted the story. The new Provenience seemed deeply moved by the fact that she had directly caused Charis’ pain and Rhema saw that the new Provenience was being deeply affected. Once Rhema could sense that the new Provenience had seen enough, she motioned for Xando to lead her into the alcove to meet with her father.

Xando knew that he would need to restrain her. Darrok would likely be satisfied upon seeing his daughter, but it would be safest to keep him bound as well. Soon enough they would both be free. But the time was not quite ready to bring that possibility into existence.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Inside the hidden chamber, Xando brought the new Provenience to Darrok. “I told you that he was safe and here for you to see.”

The new Provenience smiled for a second before she noticed that her father was bound. A look of anger immediately surged over her face. “Why have you bound him? Is he not to be free with the rest of the village?”

And the sound of her voice, Darrok looked up to the face of his daughter. “Tierna, is that you?” The name Tierna was of a draconic origin and Darrok spoke the name softly with a great deal of affection.

Xando stepped away from the new Provenience as he explained the condition of her father. “He is bound because he stepped in the way of the coming of freedom to the village. His intent was to keep our people enslaved under the wrath of our dragon father. Until we are free without repercussion of the dragon father’s wrath we unfortunately cannot trust him.”

The new Provenience shot a confused look to Xando. “You proclaim freedom for all yet deny it to my own father?”

Darrok looked up to his daughter. “Tierna, do not be upset. I did not believe that they could save you since you were so close to our dragon father all the time. If they could not save you, I was not going to abandon you to face the wrath of our dragon father alone.”

Xando interrupted. “He attempted to warn our dragon father of our plan. His action would have put us all in danger. In fact, if the rumors are true that you are indeed carrying the crossbred children of dragon and Drakontai we would have likely all been killed under his wrath. We could not let that happen.”

The new Provenience was no longer buying the explanation. She looked angrily upon Xando. Her respect for the village elder was beginning to grow thin at the outrage against her father. Perhaps more importantly, her anger helped her overcome the loose control that Rhema had been able to maintain so far.

Outside the hidden chamber Rhema’s eyes flashed open in sudden awareness. She released Charis from the comforting embrace and pushed back far enough to catch Charis’ eyes with her own. Her eyes glanced into the darkness of the antechamber where the food stores were being kept.

At once Charis knew something was wrong. She quickly asked Rhema what had alerted her senses. “Rhema? What’s wrong? Did you hear something?”

Rhema shook her head from side to side. “No, more like I felt something. Grab your pick and follow me. We need to hurry to keep order.”

Inside the room, the new Provenience saw the movement at the entrance to the cave. Her eyes focused beyond Xando upon Charis and Rhema as they came into the room. Rhema came first and was unarmed. She had her hands open in a direction towards the new Provenience. Charis followed at her heels with her pick already drawn. There was a menacing expression upon her face.

Rhema broke the silence, not desiring to give the new Provenience a chance to talk. “Listen to me, Provenience. You are free. Your family has been saved. There is no reason to be angry.”

As Rhema spoke, Charis stepped slightly ahead of Rhema and stood to her right. She stood with her legs spread wide for balance. The new Provenience could tell that she was readying herself against any kind of attack.

Tierna wisely chose to speak rather than act. “No reason to be angry? You use your mind controlling witch powers upon me to trick me to come here willingly and I have no reason to be angry? And when I do come here I find that my father has been bound and his freedom taken away? What reason do I have to believe you and your words of freedom? How long will you keep him bound?”

Xando gestured calmly with his hands in an attempt to diffuse the new Provenience’s anger. “Provenience, surely you can understand why all of these precautions were made. The necessity to bind your father was for the sake of the village. Had your father succeeded we would likely be dead!”

The new Provenience scowled at Xando’s assertion. “Do you think that I honestly care? The villagers were weak and thought they could have freedom once before. Our dragon father demonstrated his power by bringing you all back together after the weak Provenience fled and stayed away.”

Charis spoke up to refute Tierna’s words. There was a stern sense of simmering anger behind her tone. “That is where we are different, Provenience.” Charis couldn’t believe the amount of freedom she felt in speaking that title in reference to another person. “We would fight for your freedom while you would desire that the villagers die so you may become powerful. I once thought the same as you. I once thought that the title of Provenience would give me great power. But what I have learned is that the Provenience is simply bred until they are useless for producing offspring any more. Then, they are consumed. There is no glory waiting for you. You desire a power that was never yours to grasp. We seek to give you true power through your freedom.”

The new Provenience snapped a reply back to Charis. “You speak to cover your own failing. You couldn’t handle becoming the Provenience so you stayed away from the power of our dragon father. And if what you had to say was even remotely true, why did you compel me to come here through the power of mind control that your friend the witch uses?”

Rhema had enough of being called a witch. Her voice raised in volume as she answered the new Provenience’s claims. “Your dragon father could not be counted on being gone for long. We could divert him from the cave for only so long. We didn’t have the luxury of taking our time. You were being argumentative, as would be expected. I saw an opportunity to win you over without explaining it all in the dragon’s chamber. What was important was getting you here safely. We promised that much to your father.”

The new Provenience winced at the mention of her father. She was obviously still angry with seeing her father bound. She was angry enough that she had missed a pair of people entering the hidden alcove behind Rhema and Charis.

A frail voice came from one of the newcomers. “Listen to them, child. They speak the truth. You are to be commended for your desire to serve our dragon father, but you must let go of that blind obedience.” Rhema and Charis didn’t need to turn around to know the speaker. Druff had entered the chamber.

A second voice continued where Druff left off. This softer and more feminine voice did catch Charis and Rhema by surprise. “Yes, Tierna. Your actions are commendable indeed. You have made your father and me proud. But you are here with us now. You can raise your unborn children in peace without fear of suffering under our dragon father. You can raise your children with us alive.”

Darrok tried to look from his position to where his wife stood. He could not see her, but his face revealed that he was obviously pleased that she was safe. Simply hearing her voice softened his expression. He spoke to his daughter softly. “Tierna, they have bound me because I wanted to go against them. But now that you are all here I see the error of my ways. I do not blame them because I did not have the necessary faith to see their combined strength. Don’t be angry on my behalf. You have enough to think about without being angry on my behalf.”

The new Provenience scowled at the words of her father. The scowl was not in anger as much as it was in recognition of the complication that had taken her life by storm over the past few hours. She darted the focus of her eyes around the room from person to person. There were certainly too many people involved now to solve this dilemma with violence.

Before the new Provenience could respond, Druff’s voice filled the cavern again. “Friends, I believe that Darrok has truly seen the error of his ways. I believe that he desires freedom as much as the rest of us and no longer feels any loyalty to our dragon father. I ask that in an attempt to make a show for Tierna’s sake that you release Darrok to my honor.”

Xando spoke as well. Perhaps he had misjudged the situation before he had brought the new Provenience into the room. “On my honor as well. I will stand beside Druff and guarantee that Darrok’s allegiance has shifted away from our father dragon.”

Charis turned to Rhema, giving her the authority to speak on behalf of the rescue attempt. Rhema nodded slowly to the affirmative. “There is likely little comfort any of them would find in their village. I would be surprised if their father dragon has not returned by now and found his Provenience gone and the village empty. Should they return they would find themselves with their father dragon’s fury focused solely on them.” A grim smile passed over her lips, knowing that her speech was intended more for Darrok and the new Provenience that anyone else.

Charis nodded approvingly. “Besides, we need to start moving the supplies to the hall deeper in the mountain. There the mountain will truly provide shelter for us as long as we need it. Xando, free him and get the people ready to receive supplies. When we move, we’ll move as many of the supplies at first as we can.”

Xando freed Darrok, and with the help of Druff and Darrok’s wife they brought the new Provenience among the people. Tierna turned to face the cave entrance secretly wishing she could return to Quehalost. As she looked out the entrance a fair distance away she could not see the figure approaching from the forest.

The light-gray figure slowly approached the entrance knowing that the rendezvous was to occur within this space. As it reached the entrance to the tunnel it met a force that it could not penetrate. The ghostly figure was bound to Quehalost. The same power that kept the figure from properly entering the afterlife also kept the figure from meeting up with the freedom fighters gathering beneath the mountain. It stood alone at the cave entrance, unable to go any further.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Inside the hidden chamber, Xando brought the new Provenience to Darrok. “I told you that he was safe and here for you to see.”

The new Provenience smiled for a second before she noticed that her father was bound. A look of anger immediately surged over her face. “Why have you bound him? Is he not to be free with the rest of the village?”

And the sound of her voice, Darrok looked up to the face of his daughter. “Tierna, is that you?” The name Tierna was of a draconic origin and Darrok spoke the name softly with a great deal of affection.

Xando stepped away from the new Provenience as he explained the condition of her father. “He is bound because he stepped in the way of the coming of freedom to the village. His intent was to keep our people enslaved under the wrath of our dragon father. Until we are free without repercussion of the dragon father’s wrath we unfortunately cannot trust him.”

The new Provenience shot a confused look to Xando. “You proclaim freedom for all yet deny it to my own father?”

Darrok looked up to his daughter. “Tierna, do not be upset. I did not believe that they could save you since you were so close to our dragon father all the time. If they could not save you, I was not going to abandon you to face the wrath of our dragon father alone.”

Xando interrupted. “He attempted to warn our dragon father of our plan. His action would have put us all in danger. In fact, if the rumors are true that you are indeed carrying the crossbred children of dragon and Drakontai we would have likely all been killed under his wrath. We could not let that happen.”

The new Provenience was no longer buying the explanation. She looked angrily upon Xando. Her respect for the village elder was beginning to grow thin at the outrage against her father. Perhaps more importantly, her anger helped her overcome the loose control that Rhema had been able to maintain so far.

Outside the hidden chamber Rhema’s eyes flashed open in sudden awareness. She released Charis from the comforting embrace and pushed back far enough to catch Charis’ eyes with her own. Her eyes glanced into the darkness of the antechamber where the food stores were being kept.

At once Charis knew something was wrong. She quickly asked Rhema what had alerted her senses. “Rhema? What’s wrong? Did you hear something?”

Rhema shook her head from side to side. “No, more like I felt something. Grab your pick and follow me. We need to hurry to keep order.”

Inside the room, the new Provenience saw the movement at the entrance to the cave. Her eyes focused beyond Xando upon Charis and Rhema as they came into the room. Rhema came first and was unarmed. She had her hands open in a direction towards the new Provenience. Charis followed at her heels with her pick already drawn. There was a menacing expression upon her face.

Rhema broke the silence, not desiring to give the new Provenience a chance to talk. “Listen to me, Provenience. You are free. Your family has been saved. There is no reason to be angry.”

As Rhema spoke, Charis stepped slightly ahead of Rhema and stood to her right. She stood with her legs spread wide for balance. The new Provenience could tell that she was readying herself against any kind of attack.

Tierna wisely chose to speak rather than act. “No reason to be angry? You use your mind controlling witch powers upon me to trick me to come here willingly and I have no reason to be angry? And when I do come here I find that my father has been bound and his freedom taken away? What reason do I have to believe you and your words of freedom? How long will you keep him bound?”

Xando gestured calmly with his hands in an attempt to diffuse the new Provenience’s anger. “Provenience, surely you can understand why all of these precautions were made. The necessity to bind your father was for the sake of the village. Had your father succeeded we would likely be dead!”

The new Provenience scowled at Xando’s assertion. “Do you think that I honestly care? The villagers were weak and thought they could have freedom once before. Our dragon father demonstrated his power by bringing you all back together after the weak Provenience fled and stayed away.”

Charis spoke up to refute Tierna’s words. There was a stern sense of simmering anger behind her tone. “That is where we are different, Provenience.” Charis couldn’t believe the amount of freedom she felt in speaking that title in reference to another person. “We would fight for your freedom while you would desire that the villagers die so you may become powerful. I once thought the same as you. I once thought that the title of Provenience would give me great power. But what I have learned is that the Provenience is simply bred until they are useless for producing offspring any more. Then, they are consumed. There is no glory waiting for you. You desire a power that was never yours to grasp. We seek to give you true power through your freedom.”

The new Provenience snapped a reply back to Charis. “You speak to cover your own failing. You couldn’t handle becoming the Provenience so you stayed away from the power of our dragon father. And if what you had to say was even remotely true, why did you compel me to come here through the power of mind control that your friend the witch uses?”

Rhema had enough of being called a witch. Her voice raised in volume as she answered the new Provenience’s claims. “Your dragon father could not be counted on being gone for long. We could divert him from the cave for only so long. We didn’t have the luxury of taking our time. You were being argumentative, as would be expected. I saw an opportunity to win you over without explaining it all in the dragon’s chamber. What was important was getting you here safely. We promised that much to your father.”

The new Provenience winced at the mention of her father. She was obviously still angry with seeing her father bound. She was angry enough that she had missed a pair of people entering the hidden alcove behind Rhema and Charis.

A frail voice came from one of the newcomers. “Listen to them, child. They speak the truth. You are to be commended for your desire to serve our dragon father, but you must let go of that blind obedience.” Rhema and Charis didn’t need to turn around to know the speaker. Druff had entered the chamber.

A second voice continued where Druff left off. This softer and more feminine voice did catch Charis and Rhema by surprise. “Yes, Tierna. Your actions are commendable indeed. You have made your father and me proud. But you are here with us now. You can raise your unborn children in peace without fear of suffering under our dragon father. You can raise your children with us alive.”

Darrok tried to look from his position to where his wife stood. He could not see her, but his face revealed that he was obviously pleased that she was safe. Simply hearing her voice softened his expression. He spoke to his daughter softly. “Tierna, they have bound me because I wanted to go against them. But now that you are all here I see the error of my ways. I do not blame them because I did not have the necessary faith to see their combined strength. Don’t be angry on my behalf. You have enough to think about without being angry on my behalf.”

The new Provenience scowled at the words of her father. The scowl was not in anger as much as it was in recognition of the complication that had taken her life by storm over the past few hours. She darted the focus of her eyes around the room from person to person. There were certainly too many people involved now to solve this dilemma with violence.

Before the new Provenience could respond, Druff’s voice filled the cavern again. “Friends, I believe that Darrok has truly seen the error of his ways. I believe that he desires freedom as much as the rest of us and no longer feels any loyalty to our dragon father. I ask that in an attempt to make a show for Tierna’s sake that you release Darrok to my honor.”

Xando spoke as well. Perhaps he had misjudged the situation before he had brought the new Provenience into the room. “On my honor as well. I will stand beside Druff and guarantee that Darrok’s allegiance has shifted away from our father dragon.”

Charis turned to Rhema, giving her the authority to speak on behalf of the rescue attempt. Rhema nodded slowly to the affirmative. “There is likely little comfort any of them would find in their village. I would be surprised if their father dragon has not returned by now and found his Provenience gone and the village empty. Should they return they would find themselves with their father dragon’s fury focused solely on them.” A grim smile passed over her lips, knowing that her speech was intended more for Darrok and the new Provenience that anyone else.

Charis nodded approvingly. “Besides, we need to start moving the supplies to the hall deeper in the mountain. There the mountain will truly provide shelter for us as long as we need it. Xando, free him and get the people ready to receive supplies. When we move, we’ll move as many of the supplies at first as we can.”

Xando freed Darrok, and with the help of Druff and Darrok’s wife they brought the new Provenience among the people. Tierna turned to face the cave entrance secretly wishing she could return to Quehalost. As she looked out the entrance a fair distance away she could not see the figure approaching from the forest.

The light-gray figure slowly approached the entrance knowing that the rendezvous was to occur within this space. As it reached the entrance to the tunnel it met a force that it could not penetrate. The ghostly figure was bound to Quehalost. The same power that kept the figure from properly entering the afterlife also kept the figure from meeting up with the freedom fighters gathering beneath the mountain. It stood alone at the cave entrance, unable to go any further.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Back in the draconic village in Quehalost, the red wyrm had returned victoriously to his dragon perch with his deep red ruby in his grasp. He was proud to have been able to retrieve it. The dragon was overcompensating for the damaged pride that he suffered from having the deep red ruby stolen so easily in the first place. His ego was bruised by the fact that he was not able to defeat the ghostly figure in combat, but in the long run that would matter little. What was important was that the horde had been preserved.

He had wanted to gloat over the victory before his Provenience. If nothing else this was proof that he was still as great and powerful as he thought. His Provenience would only confirm this fact and verbally stroke his ego. With a little bit of luck, he had hoped his musically gifted Provenience would even be able to sing a few songs proclaiming his valor in protecting his people. If she could sing about his greatness, he could forget about having the precious gemstone stolen in the first place. It was this very yearning to ease his ego that enabled him to fly directly over the village without noticing that the village was completely empty.

When he landed on the perch, the draconic beast bellowed for his Provenience to come to him in the brisk mountain air. “Provenience, I have returned in glory to demonstrate my protection over you!”

He couldn’t have possibly known the irony of his declaration as he spoke the words. When she didn’t immediately respond to his beckon, much less come running out onto the stone perch, he called again. His tone kept the same sense of pomp and circumstance as the last announcement. “Provenience, I have called you to come to me. Do not underestimate my desire to have you obey me.” In addition to the pomp and circumstance, this time his voice did not even begin to hide his coming anger at her disobedience.

He paused for a moment out on the perch. His wrath was now beginning to boil inside of him, but he desired to give his Provenience as much time as possible to prove her loyalty. When his anger could wait no longer he sucked in a large breath and let out a bellowing draconic roar. The roar echoed across the valley that he called home; and for several seconds even the birds in the trees below him were silent from their songs.

Once the echoes had died down below an audible level he took notice of the fact that even the roar had not summoned his Provenience out onto the ledge. He tucked his head down to a shoulder height and stepped toward the main chamber with a purpose. His intention was no longer pleasant. This was no cause to kill the Provenience, but in his mind he knew that this kind of disobedience could not go unchecked. His power relied on dominance and an obvious display of his superiority. If that were to ever come into question he knew that his tyranny over the people would be in jeopardy. Again, he could not have known that this very possibility had been already brought into action through the intervention of the four adventurers and his prior brutal treatment of the people.

As he marched into the main chamber he could see the apparent signs of the fight. There were a few pieces of scorched straw which had caught fire from when his Provenience had used her own breath weapon in defense of the dragon’s chamber. Perhaps more than anything the great wyrm noticed that his Provenience herself was no longer present. He took a quick glance around the room and noticed that the few possessions which his Provenience did own were no longer there. Her mandolin had been taken with her. The bone carved comb she used to care for her hair was not in its usual place.

The dragon paused for a moment and sniffed the air. Although the cave was largely open to the elements through the hole that led to the perch above the village, the dragon could still smell two distinctly odd scents. Both of the scents reminded him of adrenaline and panic. He also smelled the fear and anger of his own Provenience. There had indeed been a fight in his chamber and his Provenience had stepped up to defend the chamber. The dragon closed his eyes for a second and mentally conjured up his magical power to perceive residual energy with his eyes. When he opened his eyes he noted that the room glowed faintly in several areas.

The dragon bellowed once more at this new discovery. “There has been magic used in my chamber?” The beast stopped for a moment and concentrated a bit harder to determine if the magic had been used recently enough to determine the strength or perhaps even the effect. Unfortunately for the great wyrm the power had faded too quickly and he had been gone too long.

The dragon thought on this for a few moments while he tried to piece together what had happened to him. The beast talked aloud to itself as it pieced together the events. “I have not been away long enough to have a powerful spell fade like that. The magical effects used must certainly have been a lowly spell. Such a spell my Provenience should have been able to overcome. And if it was a lowly spell it could not have been teleportation magic. A teleport would certainly have left a greater residual aura than this for the time that I have been gone.”

Immediately the draconic beast turned back to his perch. He looked down into the valley below, this time noting that the village was completely empty. The village was typically quiet during the day. Those able to hunt and gather food were usually away from the village and going about their chores. Those who worked with the plants and hides typically did their craft indoors to avoid the searing affects of the sun as much as possible. It was not unusual for the village to be quiet. But this time the village was more than quiet. It was abandoned.

The beast leapt off his perch and unfurled his large leathery wings. He had been caught so off guard by the emptiness of the village that he had forgotten to see if there were any residual magic traces upon his perch. Slowly the beast circled down to the ground. He caught what few air currents rose from the ground as the air warmed in order to gracefully descend to the ground. He slowed his descent and landed atop the horizontal sacrificial stone in the center of the village. The red wyrm brought his neck low enough to peer into the cage where Druff had been kept for so long.

Anger erupted inside the dragon. “Empty!” The dragon followed the yell with another tremendous roar. The cage did not appear to be damaged, so the dragon checked again for a residual magical aura. He was not disappointed to find that there was still a weak residual aura. This aura was also too weak to determine what effect had been in place and how long ago it was conjured into existence.

The dragon brought his scaly eyebrows down to reflect the boiling anger inside of him. As he thought, his eyes closed enough so that only the cat-like irises and the fiery red pupils could be seen between his upper and lower eyelid. “I do not like being tricked, and I promise to find out how this happened and make whoever is responsible pay!”

His warning was for nobody in particular. In truth, the dragon had hoped that there was someone left in the village that could be beaten into telling him what had transpired here. He also hoped that the perpetrators of this horrendous crime might be close enough to hear his threat. But there was no response to his threat of any sort.

Out of fury, the dragon began to breathe his fiery death onto the wood buildings that encircled the sacrificial stone. The wyrm was sure that as the buildings caught on fire the inhabitants would be forced to flee. Of course, the dragon knew that this truth depended upon if any villagers remained cowering in the village. The dragon watched the buildings burn until it was painfully obvious that nobody was left within the buildings. They burned quickly without anyone to fight against the flames.

It was then that the dragon noticed the path leading away to the mountains between Tongra and Quehalost. A large number of people had recently traveled along this path. It took no leap of reasoning to realize that the villagers had left a trail for him to follow. The trail was no doubt unintentional; but it was also impossible to avoid. They had given him a path to follow, and the path was easily enough followed from the air.

The dragon once more unfurled his wings and rose into the air where he could use his greater speed to his advantage. It wasn’t long before the dragon found himself in a three-month old feeling of deja vu. This was the identical path that he had used to chase down those who had stolen his last Provenience.

The dragon smiled smugly as it followed the path by air. “I found the villagers before. They were cowering and afraid. They will be no different this time. Yet this time I will not accept them back. They have earned their destruction at this show of rejection. I will enjoy slaughtering them as they come back to me begging for my protection. Then I will start completely anew.”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Back in the draconic village in Quehalost, the red wyrm had returned victoriously to his dragon perch with his deep red ruby in his grasp. He was proud to have been able to retrieve it. The dragon was overcompensating for the damaged pride that he suffered from having the deep red ruby stolen so easily in the first place. His ego was bruised by the fact that he was not able to defeat the ghostly figure in combat, but in the long run that would matter little. What was important was that the horde had been preserved.

He had wanted to gloat over the victory before his Provenience. If nothing else this was proof that he was still as great and powerful as he thought. His Provenience would only confirm this fact and verbally stroke his ego. With a little bit of luck, he had hoped his musically gifted Provenience would even be able to sing a few songs proclaiming his valor in protecting his people. If she could sing about his greatness, he could forget about having the precious gemstone stolen in the first place. It was this very yearning to ease his ego that enabled him to fly directly over the village without noticing that the village was completely empty.

When he landed on the perch, the draconic beast bellowed for his Provenience to come to him in the brisk mountain air. “Provenience, I have returned in glory to demonstrate my protection over you!”

He couldn’t have possibly known the irony of his declaration as he spoke the words. When she didn’t immediately respond to his beckon, much less come running out onto the stone perch, he called again. His tone kept the same sense of pomp and circumstance as the last announcement. “Provenience, I have called you to come to me. Do not underestimate my desire to have you obey me.” In addition to the pomp and circumstance, this time his voice did not even begin to hide his coming anger at her disobedience.

He paused for a moment out on the perch. His wrath was now beginning to boil inside of him, but he desired to give his Provenience as much time as possible to prove her loyalty. When his anger could wait no longer he sucked in a large breath and let out a bellowing draconic roar. The roar echoed across the valley that he called home; and for several seconds even the birds in the trees below him were silent from their songs.

Once the echoes had died down below an audible level he took notice of the fact that even the roar had not summoned his Provenience out onto the ledge. He tucked his head down to a shoulder height and stepped toward the main chamber with a purpose. His intention was no longer pleasant. This was no cause to kill the Provenience, but in his mind he knew that this kind of disobedience could not go unchecked. His power relied on dominance and an obvious display of his superiority. If that were to ever come into question he knew that his tyranny over the people would be in jeopardy. Again, he could not have known that this very possibility had been already brought into action through the intervention of the four adventurers and his prior brutal treatment of the people.

As he marched into the main chamber he could see the apparent signs of the fight. There were a few pieces of scorched straw which had caught fire from when his Provenience had used her own breath weapon in defense of the dragon’s chamber. Perhaps more than anything the great wyrm noticed that his Provenience herself was no longer present. He took a quick glance around the room and noticed that the few possessions which his Provenience did own were no longer there. Her mandolin had been taken with her. The bone carved comb she used to care for her hair was not in its usual place.

The dragon paused for a moment and sniffed the air. Although the cave was largely open to the elements through the hole that led to the perch above the village, the dragon could still smell two distinctly odd scents. Both of the scents reminded him of adrenaline and panic. He also smelled the fear and anger of his own Provenience. There had indeed been a fight in his chamber and his Provenience had stepped up to defend the chamber. The dragon closed his eyes for a second and mentally conjured up his magical power to perceive residual energy with his eyes. When he opened his eyes he noted that the room glowed faintly in several areas.

The dragon bellowed once more at this new discovery. “There has been magic used in my chamber?” The beast stopped for a moment and concentrated a bit harder to determine if the magic had been used recently enough to determine the strength or perhaps even the effect. Unfortunately for the great wyrm the power had faded too quickly and he had been gone too long.

The dragon thought on this for a few moments while he tried to piece together what had happened to him. The beast talked aloud to itself as it pieced together the events. “I have not been away long enough to have a powerful spell fade like that. The magical effects used must certainly have been a lowly spell. Such a spell my Provenience should have been able to overcome. And if it was a lowly spell it could not have been teleportation magic. A teleport would certainly have left a greater residual aura than this for the time that I have been gone.”

Immediately the draconic beast turned back to his perch. He looked down into the valley below, this time noting that the village was completely empty. The village was typically quiet during the day. Those able to hunt and gather food were usually away from the village and going about their chores. Those who worked with the plants and hides typically did their craft indoors to avoid the searing affects of the sun as much as possible. It was not unusual for the village to be quiet. But this time the village was more than quiet. It was abandoned.

The beast leapt off his perch and unfurled his large leathery wings. He had been caught so off guard by the emptiness of the village that he had forgotten to see if there were any residual magic traces upon his perch. Slowly the beast circled down to the ground. He caught what few air currents rose from the ground as the air warmed in order to gracefully descend to the ground. He slowed his descent and landed atop the horizontal sacrificial stone in the center of the village. The red wyrm brought his neck low enough to peer into the cage where Druff had been kept for so long.

Anger erupted inside the dragon. “Empty!” The dragon followed the yell with another tremendous roar. The cage did not appear to be damaged, so the dragon checked again for a residual magical aura. He was not disappointed to find that there was still a weak residual aura. This aura was also too weak to determine what effect had been in place and how long ago it was conjured into existence.

The dragon brought his scaly eyebrows down to reflect the boiling anger inside of him. As he thought, his eyes closed enough so that only the cat-like irises and the fiery red pupils could be seen between his upper and lower eyelid. “I do not like being tricked, and I promise to find out how this happened and make whoever is responsible pay!”

His warning was for nobody in particular. In truth, the dragon had hoped that there was someone left in the village that could be beaten into telling him what had transpired here. He also hoped that the perpetrators of this horrendous crime might be close enough to hear his threat. But there was no response to his threat of any sort.

Out of fury, the dragon began to breathe his fiery death onto the wood buildings that encircled the sacrificial stone. The wyrm was sure that as the buildings caught on fire the inhabitants would be forced to flee. Of course, the dragon knew that this truth depended upon if any villagers remained cowering in the village. The dragon watched the buildings burn until it was painfully obvious that nobody was left within the buildings. They burned quickly without anyone to fight against the flames.

It was then that the dragon noticed the path leading away to the mountains between Tongra and Quehalost. A large number of people had recently traveled along this path. It took no leap of reasoning to realize that the villagers had left a trail for him to follow. The trail was no doubt unintentional; but it was also impossible to avoid. They had given him a path to follow, and the path was easily enough followed from the air.

The dragon once more unfurled his wings and rose into the air where he could use his greater speed to his advantage. It wasn’t long before the dragon found himself in a three-month old feeling of deja vu. This was the identical path that he had used to chase down those who had stolen his last Provenience.

The dragon smiled smugly as it followed the path by air. “I found the villagers before. They were cowering and afraid. They will be no different this time. Yet this time I will not accept them back. They have earned their destruction at this show of rejection. I will enjoy slaughtering them as they come back to me begging for my protection. Then I will start completely anew.”
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Inside the cavern underneath the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains, Charis, Rhema, and Xando were easily able to load up the most significant supplies with the people and move off in the direction of the main underground chamber. The plan was to turn to another cavern that was large enough to hold the small community for a good amount of time. They were packed and well on their way before the dragon appeared at the tunnel entrance. Even with his ability to see in the vast underground darkness they were well out of range. Frustrated by a lack of ability to either see their movements or follow them into the smaller cave entrance the dragon father attempted to use his innate magical ability to locate the villagers underground. He found that effort equally unfruitful. The villagers had escaped his grasp for now.

The great wyrm smiled grimly and continued to talk to himself as he boiled internally from his anger. “I will wait them out as before. The last time they fled my presence they could not manage a few days underground by themselves before they realized that they needed my protection. They will return. Once I have collected them all they will feel my wrath.”

The dragon was unaware that the ghostly figure looked on from the edge of the forest. In truth, the ghostly figure was impressed at the dragon’s ability to show composure. Red dragons were known much more for their fury and explosive wrath than they were for their patience. It was this quality of impulsive wrath that the party had used against the dragon earlier to draw his attention away from the Provenience and the rest of the villagers. Now, the dragon demonstrated great patience by not erupting into an immediate and vengeful wrath.

The wyrm unfurled his wings once more and took to the sky. Although the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains were high, they were not so tall as to keep a dragon from being able to fly over them. There were the occasional mountain peaks that stretched up into the sky which were tall enough to prevent flight over them on account of the air being too thin. Only the cold-loving white dragons could survive in such conditions for very long. These white dragons did not fly in the higher altitudes. They were forced to the ground by the thinness of the air.

This was not such a location, however. The red wyrm had no trouble launching himself off of the ground. Once he was into the air again, he found a mountainous pass that was low enough for him to fly to the other side. Of course, the dragon knew that he dare not stay too long on the Tongra side of the mountains. The southern reaches of Tongra were well known for their clusters of green dragons. Few of these dragons would appreciate the intrusion of a single dominant red wyrm into their land. Should he stay too long, the red wyrm would likely be forced back anyway.

However, he was able to find a small perch atop the mountains that would allow him to occasionally view the Tongra side without intruding too close upon the territories of the green dragons. The greens would not be too willing to challenge him in the mountain passes. They were much more comfortable in the forests and fighting upon land than taking to the thinner air of the mountains. From this perch he could watch the Tongra side of the mountain range and quickly fly back to the Quehalost side of the mountain range to observe the southern entrance to the underground tunnels that the villagers had used. It was the perfect location to insure that the villagers did not move without his notice.

Back inside the underground tunnels, Rhema lead Charis and the rest of the village further into the depths of the mountain until she had found the chamber that she was looking for. Ischarus had managed to verbally coach Charis in finding the way to the grand chamber, although Rhema did not need Charis’ help along the way very often. This was the same chamber that Ischarus and Rhema typically used as a stopover point when they came into Quehalost.

The chamber was easily defensible and had seldom been a place of confrontation as they used it to camp. Ischarus had not been sure if it was far from any underground civilizations or if they had simply been lucky. In either regard, it was the most likely candidate as a place to keep the villagers safe until Ischarus had found a way to deal with the red wyrm and his wrath.

The chamber was the better part of a day’s journey underground and Rhema only made a few wrong turns as they moved. Fortunately, Rhema had Charis to draw upon and quickly realized that they had made an error in traversing the dark tunnels. In spite of the long journey the trip was worth it to be free of the dragon father and his magical influences. With the help of the villagers’ able and willing backs the group was able to bring a majority of the necessary supplies needed to last until the time when Ischarus should return. Once they were set up within the main chamber, Charis and Xando could lead a small group back to the storage chamber in order to gather up the remainder of supplies. It would take several trips, but there was no need to rush.

Thankfully, there were several reliable sources for drinking water within the mountain passages themselves. Many of these water sources were near the main underground chamber. None of the sources could be depended upon for great quantities of water. So long as the people were not greedy, they could stave off illness, and everyone was willing to ration the supplies the availability of water would not be a problem. One thing could be said about the availability of water around them. This deep in the mountains the water could be counted on to be both pure and cold.

Charis and Rhema both knew the water supply issue was actually a benefit rather than a problem. If they were going to be underground for even so long as a month, people would need jobs to do so that they could avoid even the slightest psychological disorder. It would be hard enough to stay underground and buried from the light of the sun for such a long time without going insane. If they could find enough tasks for the villagers to accomplish each and every day it would give them a sense of purpose and the ability to mark off time. Unfortunately with Semeion’s absence it meant that providing light to accomplish these tasks would be more difficult than expected. His magical ability to make light out of darkness would be sorely missed.

Once they arrived, Charis and Rhema gathered together with Druff and Xando to begin to set up the new underground village. Charis looked to Druff and smiled. He was clearly tired from the journey, but as the day moved on he found he could walk more and more and be carried less. His body was still frail but it was welcoming the ability to stretch out and keep from being hunched up.

Charis decided to address her old friend first. “Druff, old friend. You had protected both the village and me for so long before my new friends came and took me away to teach me in the ways of light. Will you do the honor of helping me establish an order among the people as they set up camp so that the defense of this place will be easier? It will need a fair amount of organization to accomplish such a task.”

Instantly Druff appeared to stand taller and regain the pride in his duty that Charis had remembered. He replied, “Indeed I can, Charis. It would be my honor to once again serve the people.”

Rhema looked to Xando and also smiled. “Well, I suppose that leaves you and me to organize the supplies and gather the people into various work crews. Is there any particular preference as to which job you would like, Xando?”

The tribal leader nodded and spoke with confidence. “The people are more comfortable taking orders from me that you, simply because the trust is already established within my leadership. Why don’t I organize the people into various work crews? You deal with organizing and rationing the supplies. The people will see the necessity of that task and accept your authority in that matter. I am still the guide for these people, but you are the leader of this place.”

Rhema nodded in approval and replied. “Sounds like as good of a plan as any, Xando.”

Charis turned away from Druff and looked to Rhema and Xando. “Where are you planning on storing the supplies? If we know that then Druff and I can direct the people to you as we go about advising the people on how to establish this temporary village.”

Rhema pointed to a small outcropping of rock above a smaller alcove off of the main chamber. This was that customary sleeping area they used on the prior raids into and out of Quehalost. “Direct the people toward that small outcropping of rock. Just underneath is the small cave where we used to sleep. It is protected on all sides and is a safe place to ensure our food stores are protected from any threat.”

Charis nodded and turned back to Druff. “Shall we, then? The people will no doubt be getting anxious soon.”

Duff nodded and began to walk the perimeter of the main chamber. As he turned he spoke to Charis who walked beside him. “They are tired after such a long and strenuous journey underground.”

Charis nodded. “We all are, Druff. We all are. I think that most people will take the advice on where to set up camp with welcome. At least down here in the caves we need not fear the elements of weather nor fear it becoming too cold or too hot.”

Druff replied as he smiled. “Yeah. Our biggest concerns will be light, water, and the occasional defense. I’ve been thinking of asking for mandatory enlistment in defense classes. If nothing else, it would give the people something to do while they were underground. Perhaps Rhema could teach some of them her magic?”

Charis approved. “Probably a wise precaution. Rhema’s magic comes from her mind, however. Her magic is not the same as Semeion’s or even our dragon father’s. I do not know if it can even be taught.”

As the pair of Drakontai spoke, Xando and Rhema took up residence in the alcove at the rear of the cave. Xando continued their discussion as Charis and Druff left. “I suppose what I will need from you is a list of the duties that will be necessary for our survival. Once I have those duties I can organize the people into teams and perhaps even shifts. I suppose night and daytime will blur together underground?”

Rhema looked to Xando at the thought. “Probably. I suppose that means we should start by suggesting people vary their sleeping times. If the people can shift their sleeping times we could guarantee that work is being accomplished and the defense of the chamber is ensured throughout the whole day.”

As Xando nodded in agreement she continued, “As for duties, I can think of three urgent needs that will begin once we have established camp. Defense, water collection, and the occasional ride towards the storage cave to pick up another gathering of wood and other supplies that we left behind. I imagine that there are mushrooms and other fungus that could be gathered to supplement the dried and cured food that we stored. Each of the water and food teams that we send out should have a defense team with them as well. We should not make a habit of traveling light in the tunnels. Numbers will provide our biggest advantage.”

Xando listened intently and began formulating a list in his mind. He was already dividing up the villagers into a duty roster. The needs were simple in this temporary underground environment, but each job was vital to their survival. As Druff and Charis made their rounds, slowly the people began to trickle in to deposit their supplies and receive their orders from Xando. The emergency village was beginning to take shape.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Inside the cavern underneath the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains, Charis, Rhema, and Xando were easily able to load up the most significant supplies with the people and move off in the direction of the main underground chamber. The plan was to turn to another cavern that was large enough to hold the small community for a good amount of time. They were packed and well on their way before the dragon appeared at the tunnel entrance. Even with his ability to see in the vast underground darkness they were well out of range. Frustrated by a lack of ability to either see their movements or follow them into the smaller cave entrance the dragon father attempted to use his innate magical ability to locate the villagers underground. He found that effort equally unfruitful. The villagers had escaped his grasp for now.

The great wyrm smiled grimly and continued to talk to himself as he boiled internally from his anger. “I will wait them out as before. The last time they fled my presence they could not manage a few days underground by themselves before they realized that they needed my protection. They will return. Once I have collected them all they will feel my wrath.”

The dragon was unaware that the ghostly figure looked on from the edge of the forest. In truth, the ghostly figure was impressed at the dragon’s ability to show composure. Red dragons were known much more for their fury and explosive wrath than they were for their patience. It was this quality of impulsive wrath that the party had used against the dragon earlier to draw his attention away from the Provenience and the rest of the villagers. Now, the dragon demonstrated great patience by not erupting into an immediate and vengeful wrath.

The wyrm unfurled his wings once more and took to the sky. Although the Tongra-Quehalost Mountains were high, they were not so tall as to keep a dragon from being able to fly over them. There were the occasional mountain peaks that stretched up into the sky which were tall enough to prevent flight over them on account of the air being too thin. Only the cold-loving white dragons could survive in such conditions for very long. These white dragons did not fly in the higher altitudes. They were forced to the ground by the thinness of the air.

This was not such a location, however. The red wyrm had no trouble launching himself off of the ground. Once he was into the air again, he found a mountainous pass that was low enough for him to fly to the other side. Of course, the dragon knew that he dare not stay too long on the Tongra side of the mountains. The southern reaches of Tongra were well known for their clusters of green dragons. Few of these dragons would appreciate the intrusion of a single dominant red wyrm into their land. Should he stay too long, the red wyrm would likely be forced back anyway.

However, he was able to find a small perch atop the mountains that would allow him to occasionally view the Tongra side without intruding too close upon the territories of the green dragons. The greens would not be too willing to challenge him in the mountain passes. They were much more comfortable in the forests and fighting upon land than taking to the thinner air of the mountains. From this perch he could watch the Tongra side of the mountain range and quickly fly back to the Quehalost side of the mountain range to observe the southern entrance to the underground tunnels that the villagers had used. It was the perfect location to insure that the villagers did not move without his notice.

Back inside the underground tunnels, Rhema lead Charis and the rest of the village further into the depths of the mountain until she had found the chamber that she was looking for. Ischarus had managed to verbally coach Charis in finding the way to the grand chamber, although Rhema did not need Charis’ help along the way very often. This was the same chamber that Ischarus and Rhema typically used as a stopover point when they came into Quehalost.

The chamber was easily defensible and had seldom been a place of confrontation as they used it to camp. Ischarus had not been sure if it was far from any underground civilizations or if they had simply been lucky. In either regard, it was the most likely candidate as a place to keep the villagers safe until Ischarus had found a way to deal with the red wyrm and his wrath.

The chamber was the better part of a day’s journey underground and Rhema only made a few wrong turns as they moved. Fortunately, Rhema had Charis to draw upon and quickly realized that they had made an error in traversing the dark tunnels. In spite of the long journey the trip was worth it to be free of the dragon father and his magical influences. With the help of the villagers’ able and willing backs the group was able to bring a majority of the necessary supplies needed to last until the time when Ischarus should return. Once they were set up within the main chamber, Charis and Xando could lead a small group back to the storage chamber in order to gather up the remainder of supplies. It would take several trips, but there was no need to rush.

Thankfully, there were several reliable sources for drinking water within the mountain passages themselves. Many of these water sources were near the main underground chamber. None of the sources could be depended upon for great quantities of water. So long as the people were not greedy, they could stave off illness, and everyone was willing to ration the supplies the availability of water would not be a problem. One thing could be said about the availability of water around them. This deep in the mountains the water could be counted on to be both pure and cold.

Charis and Rhema both knew the water supply issue was actually a benefit rather than a problem. If they were going to be underground for even so long as a month, people would need jobs to do so that they could avoid even the slightest psychological disorder. It would be hard enough to stay underground and buried from the light of the sun for such a long time without going insane. If they could find enough tasks for the villagers to accomplish each and every day it would give them a sense of purpose and the ability to mark off time. Unfortunately with Semeion’s absence it meant that providing light to accomplish these tasks would be more difficult than expected. His magical ability to make light out of darkness would be sorely missed.

Once they arrived, Charis and Rhema gathered together with Druff and Xando to begin to set up the new underground village. Charis looked to Druff and smiled. He was clearly tired from the journey, but as the day moved on he found he could walk more and more and be carried less. His body was still frail but it was welcoming the ability to stretch out and keep from being hunched up.

Charis decided to address her old friend first. “Druff, old friend. You had protected both the village and me for so long before my new friends came and took me away to teach me in the ways of light. Will you do the honor of helping me establish an order among the people as they set up camp so that the defense of this place will be easier? It will need a fair amount of organization to accomplish such a task.”

Instantly Druff appeared to stand taller and regain the pride in his duty that Charis had remembered. He replied, “Indeed I can, Charis. It would be my honor to once again serve the people.”

Rhema looked to Xando and also smiled. “Well, I suppose that leaves you and me to organize the supplies and gather the people into various work crews. Is there any particular preference as to which job you would like, Xando?”

The tribal leader nodded and spoke with confidence. “The people are more comfortable taking orders from me that you, simply because the trust is already established within my leadership. Why don’t I organize the people into various work crews? You deal with organizing and rationing the supplies. The people will see the necessity of that task and accept your authority in that matter. I am still the guide for these people, but you are the leader of this place.”

Rhema nodded in approval and replied. “Sounds like as good of a plan as any, Xando.”

Charis turned away from Druff and looked to Rhema and Xando. “Where are you planning on storing the supplies? If we know that then Druff and I can direct the people to you as we go about advising the people on how to establish this temporary village.”

Rhema pointed to a small outcropping of rock above a smaller alcove off of the main chamber. This was that customary sleeping area they used on the prior raids into and out of Quehalost. “Direct the people toward that small outcropping of rock. Just underneath is the small cave where we used to sleep. It is protected on all sides and is a safe place to ensure our food stores are protected from any threat.”

Charis nodded and turned back to Druff. “Shall we, then? The people will no doubt be getting anxious soon.”

Duff nodded and began to walk the perimeter of the main chamber. As he turned he spoke to Charis who walked beside him. “They are tired after such a long and strenuous journey underground.”

Charis nodded. “We all are, Druff. We all are. I think that most people will take the advice on where to set up camp with welcome. At least down here in the caves we need not fear the elements of weather nor fear it becoming too cold or too hot.”

Druff replied as he smiled. “Yeah. Our biggest concerns will be light, water, and the occasional defense. I’ve been thinking of asking for mandatory enlistment in defense classes. If nothing else, it would give the people something to do while they were underground. Perhaps Rhema could teach some of them her magic?”

Charis approved. “Probably a wise precaution. Rhema’s magic comes from her mind, however. Her magic is not the same as Semeion’s or even our dragon father’s. I do not know if it can even be taught.”

As the pair of Drakontai spoke, Xando and Rhema took up residence in the alcove at the rear of the cave. Xando continued their discussion as Charis and Druff left. “I suppose what I will need from you is a list of the duties that will be necessary for our survival. Once I have those duties I can organize the people into teams and perhaps even shifts. I suppose night and daytime will blur together underground?”

Rhema looked to Xando at the thought. “Probably. I suppose that means we should start by suggesting people vary their sleeping times. If the people can shift their sleeping times we could guarantee that work is being accomplished and the defense of the chamber is ensured throughout the whole day.”

As Xando nodded in agreement she continued, “As for duties, I can think of three urgent needs that will begin once we have established camp. Defense, water collection, and the occasional ride towards the storage cave to pick up another gathering of wood and other supplies that we left behind. I imagine that there are mushrooms and other fungus that could be gathered to supplement the dried and cured food that we stored. Each of the water and food teams that we send out should have a defense team with them as well. We should not make a habit of traveling light in the tunnels. Numbers will provide our biggest advantage.”

Xando listened intently and began formulating a list in his mind. He was already dividing up the villagers into a duty roster. The needs were simple in this temporary underground environment, but each job was vital to their survival. As Druff and Charis made their rounds, slowly the people began to trickle in to deposit their supplies and receive their orders from Xando. The emergency village was beginning to take shape.
[/Sblock]

 

[Mahtave]

I have been reading this for a while now, excellent read. I would like to mention that I like the colors. Now of course I am at the end and I have to wait.....

 

[Nonlethal Force]

REPLY to READER, not an update ...

I have been reading this for a while now, excellent read.

Thank you, I am glad you are enjoying it. I've been a bit disappointed my updates haven't been as regular the past few weeks as I wanted, but life tends to get busy. But, thanks for sticking with the story and continuing to read!

Now of course I am at the end and I have to wait.....

Well, I will give you a piece of insider information and say that there is a post coming that is two or three away that will make your wait well worth it. Of course, the next few posts will hopefully be worth it as well, but as a teaser I'll let you know that something is coming that'll hopefully be beyond cool!

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The next few days passed by reasonably well for the villagers underground. In spite of their father dragon’s enormous range of powers and fearsome abilities in bringing devastating destruction to the surface, the dragon found that there was little he could do in the given situation. He could not locate his villagers through any magical means and he knew that he didn’t have the ability to alter his form for long enough to make it worthwhile. So long as the villagers stayed within the confines of the tunnels, withstood the danger of starvation, and fended off the limited attacks by the gnolls and kobolds they would be safe.

The villagers didn’t do much work the first few days. This was an intentional decision made by Charis, Rhema, Druff, and Xando. The people were extensively trained in the ways of combat and water collection. The rest of the time they were encouraged to rest and get to know their working cohorts. Xando argued that the people would need a few days to allow the decision of leaving to sink in. The people would need a few days to accept the decision that would change the rest of their lives.

Rhema and Charis did not argue this decision. The last day had been filled with so much work that they had not had time to grieve the loss of Semeion. Rhema knew that his loss was constantly in her mind and could only imagine the effort that Charis expended in maintaining her composure. The days off would allow the grieving process to begin at the very least.

On the third day, Charis and Druff decided that it was time to head back to the small alcove they had originally used as a storage area just inside the tunnel entrance. They called together the eight men and women who had been selected for this purpose and headed back to the alcove. They were heavily armed as they moved. Charis carried her heavy pick and loaned her double-headed war hammer to Druff. The villagers were armed with makeshift clubs. A few of the villagers had been enterprising enough over the past two days of resting to fashion a few makeshift flint axes rather than using the improvised clubs. This resourcefulness impressed Rhema and caused pride to swell within Charis, Druff, and Xando.

Charis’ party for retrieving firewood and other supplies made several trips to the alcove and back. Each trip took about a full day to make. They were able to move more quickly than when they had the whole village traveling with them because they were smaller in number and well prepared for travel. They also understood the urgency about the time spent away. While they were away from the rest of the villagers both they and the makeshift village was more vulnerable.

The water collection and defense crews also began to work as Charis’ team traveled back and forth to retrieve supplies. Occasionally the teams were challenged by gnoll and kobold scouting parties, but Charis had been right in her earlier assessment. The teams that went out were no fewer than eight members with four members devoted to nothing except defense of the party. What resistance the teams did meet largely ran from them on account of being obviously outnumbered against the well prepared villagers.

At the end of the first week the leaders of this underground venture were pleased with the progress of the people. The people were struggling against the effects of depression as much as could be expected, but none of them seemed to be in danger of succumbing to its effects. Considering that none of them had seen the sun in seven days the people were in remarkable spirits. In truth, few of them had thought they would last this long.

The food rationing was also going well. In fact, even the new Provenience seemed to begin to embrace the fact that her dragon father was not the ultimate answer that she thought he was. While none of the village leaders were willing to let the new Provenience stray outside the limits of the makeshift village, they were pleased when she demonstrated interest in learning the art of defensive fighting and even taking part in the water rationing process. Rhema discovered that the new Provenience was a natural leader and the two began to strike up a fair friendship as they worked the food and water distribution together.

As good as things were going within the underground village, on the eighth day of their stay below the mountain there was a slight disruption at the Quehalost entrance to the tunnel. The disruption went unnoticed by those so deep within the mountain. There were more than a few who were even aware that anything was happening on the surface at all.

At the entrance of the tunnel, there was only the smallest of activity happening. To be fair, this was more activity than had taken place since the entire village had been swallowed up into the bowels of the earth. The dragon father had been watching the entrance to each of the tunnels like a hawk and his presence kept the large majority of the natural wildlife out of the immediate area.

Although the light-gray figure was unable to join the villagers underground, that very fact didn’t imply that the ghostly figure had abandoned the plight of the Drakontai village. There was nothing in Quehalost that held him in this evil land except the fact that he couldn’t leave. In fact, nothing even gave him a purpose to go through the day besides the cause of these villagers.

He knew he couldn’t challenge the dragon upfront, but he certainly could watch the entrance and do what he little was possible at this point. Being a ghostly figure he had the advantage of needing neither food, water, nor even shelter from the outside elements. He could be an ever vigilant guard and protect the rear of the villagers from an outside threat. Certainly there were limits to what the figure could accomplish, but it made his unfortunate inability to move on after his death to still have some kind of purpose.

Another advantage the light-gray figure had over anyone that would come to challenge this area was the fact that he wasn’t limited by the physical laws of the world. The gray figure quickly realized that if he stood out in the open to protect the entrance then the dragon would be able to spot him. The first two days the figure stood vigilantly within the rock to the left of the entrance. When fully enclosed in the rock he could not see outside; but it took little time at all to learn how to allow his face to be les than a quarter of an inch outside the rock. At that distance his face was hardly noticeable at all, especially considering the great height from which the red wyrm above was observing the entrance.

The light gray figure didn’t stay satisfied with that particular arrangement for long, however. The rock entrance was over thirty feet from the nearest tree at the edge of the forest and that implied that he was largely alone without even the movement of the forest animals to keep him company within the rock face. After a few lonely days within the rock the light gray figure grew more comfortable at the realization that the dragon was content to wait. The figure emerged out of the rock and took up residence in one of the trees at the forest edge. From the tree he could see the entrance just as well, but within the trees he had the ability to be hidden by the leaves above him and thus was less concerned about hiding from the dragon father. The animals of the forest still did not come near his ghostly form, but he could at least be amused by the few remaining birds and squirrels as they jumped among the rest of the trees.

It was on the eighth day of his vigilant guard that the light gray figure heard someone approaching from deeper within the forest. The man walked with a severe limp and his cloak was pulled up over his head. He was walking carefully, staying to the areas hidden by the thickest canopy as much as possible. As he approached the cave entrance he paused for a second, not trusting the open area between the forest edge and the entrance into the underground cavern. The man crouched to the ground and ran his finger over what was left of a footprint left by one of the villagers eight days ago.

Seemingly pleased that he had located a footprint, the figure rose and once more looked up toward the rock face. His eyes looked as high as he could possibly see without revealing his position from under the trees. The unknown figure mumbled something as he looked up, but the light-gray figure was unable to make out the sound into distinguishable speech. It was at least clear that the unknown figure knew to expect the dragon high upon the mountainous overlook.

The man shifted in his position and looked as though he were testing the nimbleness of his legs. As he picked up his left leg he winced and his hands immediately turned down to his leg to massage the pain. The shoulders of the man’s cloak rose as he returned his foot to the ground and breathed in deeply. A grand sigh followed the deep breath and he stepped forward towards the open ground.

The light-gray figure spoke confidently before the man could step completely into the open. The ghostly face had emerged from the nearby tree a short quarter of an inch. “I’d be careful about going into that space if I were you.”

The unknown figure turned suddenly towards the voice, obviously surprised. He pulled the edge of his cloak hood back slightly to allow him a good look around. The light-gray figure could now see the lower half of the man’s face. A smile had appeared upon the ghostly figure’s lips. His face had a good growth of facial hair on as much as the light-gray figure could see. The ghostly figure inexplicably felt an instant ease purveyed by the body language of the unknown man.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The next few days passed by reasonably well for the villagers underground. In spite of their father dragon’s enormous range of powers and fearsome abilities in bringing devastating destruction to the surface, the dragon found that there was little he could do in the given situation. He could not locate his villagers through any magical means and he knew that he didn’t have the ability to alter his form for long enough to make it worthwhile. So long as the villagers stayed within the confines of the tunnels, withstood the danger of starvation, and fended off the limited attacks by the gnolls and kobolds they would be safe.

The villagers didn’t do much work the first few days. This was an intentional decision made by Charis, Rhema, Druff, and Xando. The people were extensively trained in the ways of combat and water collection. The rest of the time they were encouraged to rest and get to know their working cohorts. Xando argued that the people would need a few days to allow the decision of leaving to sink in. The people would need a few days to accept the decision that would change the rest of their lives.

Rhema and Charis did not argue this decision. The last day had been filled with so much work that they had not had time to grieve the loss of Semeion. Rhema knew that his loss was constantly in her mind and could only imagine the effort that Charis expended in maintaining her composure. The days off would allow the grieving process to begin at the very least.

On the third day, Charis and Druff decided that it was time to head back to the small alcove they had originally used as a storage area just inside the tunnel entrance. They called together the eight men and women who had been selected for this purpose and headed back to the alcove. They were heavily armed as they moved. Charis carried her heavy pick and loaned her double-headed war hammer to Druff. The villagers were armed with makeshift clubs. A few of the villagers had been enterprising enough over the past two days of resting to fashion a few makeshift flint axes rather than using the improvised clubs. This resourcefulness impressed Rhema and caused pride to swell within Charis, Druff, and Xando.

Charis’ party for retrieving firewood and other supplies made several trips to the alcove and back. Each trip took about a full day to make. They were able to move more quickly than when they had the whole village traveling with them because they were smaller in number and well prepared for travel. They also understood the urgency about the time spent away. While they were away from the rest of the villagers both they and the makeshift village was more vulnerable.

The water collection and defense crews also began to work as Charis’ team traveled back and forth to retrieve supplies. Occasionally the teams were challenged by gnoll and kobold scouting parties, but Charis had been right in her earlier assessment. The teams that went out were no fewer than eight members with four members devoted to nothing except defense of the party. What resistance the teams did meet largely ran from them on account of being obviously outnumbered against the well prepared villagers.

At the end of the first week the leaders of this underground venture were pleased with the progress of the people. The people were struggling against the effects of depression as much as could be expected, but none of them seemed to be in danger of succumbing to its effects. Considering that none of them had seen the sun in seven days the people were in remarkable spirits. In truth, few of them had thought they would last this long.

The food rationing was also going well. In fact, even the new Provenience seemed to begin to embrace the fact that her dragon father was not the ultimate answer that she thought he was. While none of the village leaders were willing to let the new Provenience stray outside the limits of the makeshift village, they were pleased when she demonstrated interest in learning the art of defensive fighting and even taking part in the water rationing process. Rhema discovered that the new Provenience was a natural leader and the two began to strike up a fair friendship as they worked the food and water distribution together.

As good as things were going within the underground village, on the eighth day of their stay below the mountain there was a slight disruption at the Quehalost entrance to the tunnel. The disruption went unnoticed by those so deep within the mountain. There were more than a few who were even aware that anything was happening on the surface at all.

At the entrance of the tunnel, there was only the smallest of activity happening. To be fair, this was more activity than had taken place since the entire village had been swallowed up into the bowels of the earth. The dragon father had been watching the entrance to each of the tunnels like a hawk and his presence kept the large majority of the natural wildlife out of the immediate area.

Although the light-gray figure was unable to join the villagers underground, that very fact didn’t imply that the ghostly figure had abandoned the plight of the Drakontai village. There was nothing in Quehalost that held him in this evil land except the fact that he couldn’t leave. In fact, nothing even gave him a purpose to go through the day besides the cause of these villagers.

He knew he couldn’t challenge the dragon upfront, but he certainly could watch the entrance and do what he little was possible at this point. Being a ghostly figure he had the advantage of needing neither food, water, nor even shelter from the outside elements. He could be an ever vigilant guard and protect the rear of the villagers from an outside threat. Certainly there were limits to what the figure could accomplish, but it made his unfortunate inability to move on after his death to still have some kind of purpose.

Another advantage the light-gray figure had over anyone that would come to challenge this area was the fact that he wasn’t limited by the physical laws of the world. The gray figure quickly realized that if he stood out in the open to protect the entrance then the dragon would be able to spot him. The first two days the figure stood vigilantly within the rock to the left of the entrance. When fully enclosed in the rock he could not see outside; but it took little time at all to learn how to allow his face to be les than a quarter of an inch outside the rock. At that distance his face was hardly noticeable at all, especially considering the great height from which the red wyrm above was observing the entrance.

The light gray figure didn’t stay satisfied with that particular arrangement for long, however. The rock entrance was over thirty feet from the nearest tree at the edge of the forest and that implied that he was largely alone without even the movement of the forest animals to keep him company within the rock face. After a few lonely days within the rock the light gray figure grew more comfortable at the realization that the dragon was content to wait. The figure emerged out of the rock and took up residence in one of the trees at the forest edge. From the tree he could see the entrance just as well, but within the trees he had the ability to be hidden by the leaves above him and thus was less concerned about hiding from the dragon father. The animals of the forest still did not come near his ghostly form, but he could at least be amused by the few remaining birds and squirrels as they jumped among the rest of the trees.

It was on the eighth day of his vigilant guard that the light gray figure heard someone approaching from deeper within the forest. The man walked with a severe limp and his cloak was pulled up over his head. He was walking carefully, staying to the areas hidden by the thickest canopy as much as possible. As he approached the cave entrance he paused for a second, not trusting the open area between the forest edge and the entrance into the underground cavern. The man crouched to the ground and ran his finger over what was left of a footprint left by one of the villagers eight days ago.

Seemingly pleased that he had located a footprint, the figure rose and once more looked up toward the rock face. His eyes looked as high as he could possibly see without revealing his position from under the trees. The unknown figure mumbled something as he looked up, but the light-gray figure was unable to make out the sound into distinguishable speech. It was at least clear that the unknown figure knew to expect the dragon high upon the mountainous overlook.

The man shifted in his position and looked as though he were testing the nimbleness of his legs. As he picked up his left leg he winced and his hands immediately turned down to his leg to massage the pain. The shoulders of the man’s cloak rose as he returned his foot to the ground and breathed in deeply. A grand sigh followed the deep breath and he stepped forward towards the open ground.

The light-gray figure spoke confidently before the man could step completely into the open. The ghostly face had emerged from the nearby tree a short quarter of an inch. “I’d be careful about going into that space if I were you.”

The unknown figure turned suddenly towards the voice, obviously surprised. He pulled the edge of his cloak hood back slightly to allow him a good look around. The light-gray figure could now see the lower half of the man’s face. A smile had appeared upon the ghostly figure’s lips. His face had a good growth of facial hair on as much as the light-gray figure could see. The ghostly figure inexplicably felt an instant ease purveyed by the body language of the unknown man.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The unknown man smiled a little more broadly as his mind began to put together what was happening around him. The more the man smiled, the more the light-gray figure struggled to grasp exactly what was going on around him. He had expected to startle the man, but instead it felt as though it was himself that was being startled. Considering that the light-gray figure was a ghost and there was little on the face of the earth that could affect him, he considered being startled quite the significant event.

The unknown man spoke softly to the light-gray figure. “I figured that you’d be under the mountain by now. I assume everything is going well down there?”

The friendliness of the speech took the light-gray figure completely by surprise. Of course, the fact that the man seemed to know about the plan also took him by surprise. At the worst, this could be some kind of ploy from the dragon father to get him to reveal some sort of truth about the plan. The light-gray figure decided that it would be best to play it safe. “I honestly don’t what you are talking about. Why would I be under the mountain with the huge spiders and the gnolls?”

The man spoke softly with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Oh, come now. You are telling me that you are simply hanging around this mountain cave for absolutely no reason at all?”

The light-gray figure eased out of the tree an inch more. The figure’s complete face appeared just over the edge of the tree bark. “I’m hanging around these parts because it is impossible for me to go any further!”

This revelation shocked the man who had come upon the entrance so cautiously. The man reached up and jerked his hood back so that he could get a good look at the ghostly figure. As he did so, he exclaimed in a slightly elevated voice. “You mean you can’t even go under the mountains?”

As the light-gray figure saw the man pull back his hood he recognized him immediately. “Semeion? What in the world are you still doing out of the cave? If the red wyrm were to find you out here he’d kill you on the spot!”

Semeion smiled grimly. There was a clear hint of dark playfulness in his expression. “He needs to catch me first. I’ve been outside the mountain tunnel for a while now and the dragon father has not yet found me. I highly doubt the dragon father even knows of my existence.”

The ghostly figure completely emerged from the tree. Rather than imitate walking, the light-gray figure floated an inch above the ground until he was only a matter of feet away from Semeion. “Even so, don’t you think you are tempting fate a bit by being here? And didn’t I notice a limp as you approached? Your leg looked rather tender as you came along the trail.”

Semeion looked down to his leg and then back up to the ghostly figure. “I’ll manage. I’ve survived for long enough out here. I can survive a bit longer. But you are still avoiding my original question. You cannot join us under the tunnels?”

The light-gray figure shook his head slowly from side to side. “The same magic that prevents me from leaving Quehalost is keeping me from entering the tunnels. I will not be joining you all even while you wait for the proper time to leave.”

Semeion looked back to the tunnel and then back to the light-gray figure. “I am sorry.” Semeion wasn’t really sure what else could be said.

The light-gray figure smiled at Semeion’s attempt to empathize with him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve spent long enough in this forsaken land. It’ll be less than a month from now and you all should return my possessions to my father. Then my time to leave will come. I can wait that long.” After speaking, the ghostly figure looked long and hard toward the tunnel entrance.

Semeion smiled in return. “I admire your patience.” The young mage’s face revealed that he could think of little else to say that would be meaningful at a time such as this.

The light-gray figure continued to look into the tunnel. “You never told me why you have the limp. But in all honesty, you’ve likely been here talking to me for long enough. Your luck will likely run out soon. I’d recommend you get moving.”

Semeion likewise turned to look at the cave entrance. He knew that freedom and life were represented by the coolness and darkness of the tunnel. He also knew that the tunnel represented freedom for the light-gray figure as well. “We’ll make your sacrifice worth it. I’ll rest easier knowing that you are watching out for our backs on this end.” He stepped to the tunnel.

The light-gray figure watched Ischarus as he approached the cave. “I’d recommend running, personally. The dragon father watches this entrance like a hawk. You not only need to cross the open area, but you also need to make sure that you get far enough down that tunnel to avoid the effects of his breath. After this many days, I’d expect his wrath to know little fury if he sees you. You’re going to catch the brunt of eight days of wrath in a very short span of time unless you hurry.”

Semeion breathed in deeply, knowing that his leg wouldn’t support the faster movement for very long. The catch was wondering how long his leg would hold out. The injury was serious, but not serious to prevent movement when not under duress. There was no telling how long the leg would last if it was put under the stress of running.

Semeion breathed in deeply and closed his eyes for a second. He wouldn’t make it far enough into the tunnel with a simple walk if the dragon father was watching. He would have to move with a greater speed than he desired. He looked back to the light-gray figure and watched the ghostly image meld back into the confines of the tree. Once the figure had everything hidden except for his eyes and nose within the flesh of the tree Semeion began to sprint towards the tunnel.

As he took his first step towards freedom he thought of Charis. He had often thought of Charis and how she must have missed him over the last week. In fact, he assumed that she had mourned his loss. He would enjoy proving her assumption false.

As he stepped out of the forest he heard the deep draconic cry come from high above the mountain pass. He had grown familiar with the cry from hearing it several times in the past week and a half, both before and after the village had been abandoned. Yet as he heard the draconic cry he could feel his leg giving out. Semeion crashed to the ground as a sharp pain surged up his broken leg.

Instantly his mind brought him back several months. For an instant Semeion was no longer in Quehalost as a freedom fighter. Once more Semeion was back upon the grassy hill where he watched his master die at the hands of the green dragon. As Semeion crashed down to the earth he rolled over onto his backside. Despite straining for an instant to look up into the sky Semeion could not see the red wyrm diving towards him from a great height. He knew dragon eyesight was better than that of a human, however. There could be no doubt that the dragon saw him stumble.

Semeion bit lightly into his lip as he rolled himself over. The pain from his now bleeding lip helped him ignore the throbbing pain he felt in his leg. Semeion lifted himself onto his good foot and began once again to make for the cave entrance. The pain was great, but the fear of dying was now even greater. Semeion endured the pain and as quickly as he could he hobbled to the cave entrance.

Semeion made it to the tunnel entrance before the dragon could land upon the ground. He had made it past the first major hazard. If he was going to die, he would die at the hands of the fiery breath of the dragon father. At least he wouldn’t be impaled from a dragon falling from a great height. Semeion chuckled to himself knowing that there was little consolation in dying by fire over dying by impalement.

Once he was inside the tunnel entrance, Semeion appreciated the support of the cool rock walls. With the rock to lean upon, Semeion could hobble along faster than in the open ground between the tunnel and the forest. When he was about twenty feet into the tunnel he heard the thunder of the ground shaking. The heavy weight of the dragon landing upon the solid ground sent shockwaves through the surrounding area. The roar of the beast echoed ominously from behind him. Semeion’s pace quickened, but pain continued to shoot through his foot.

The dragon peered into the tunnel with its ability to see into darkness. The beast saw that Semeion was rapidly fleeing down the tunnel. Much of this journey converged upon this single moment for Semeion. The red wyrm knew that time was running short and he breathed in deeply to make the most of what little time remained. When the beast exhaled the air was ignited in flame. The shockwave of heat expanding the air around the breath hit Semeion from the back and forced him forward onto his face.

The dragon waited for a few seconds until the flames and the heat died down within the tunnel. Looking once more into the cave the dragon saw that Semeion was laying on the floor without any sign of movement. The dragon pulled his head back in a proud statement of his ego. “When they see what I have done to this one they will all come back to me out of fear. And I will kill them all.”

The dragon looked once more into the cave to gloat over his first small but meaningful victory. To his surprise Semeion was no longer laying on the floor where he expected him. In fact, Semeion had vanished entirely.

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The unknown man smiled a little more broadly as his mind began to put together what was happening around him. The more the man smiled, the more the light-gray figure struggled to grasp exactly what was going on around him. He had expected to startle the man, but instead it felt as though it was himself that was being startled. Considering that the light-gray figure was a ghost and there was little on the face of the earth that could affect him, he considered being startled quite the significant event.

The unknown man spoke softly to the light-gray figure. “I figured that you’d be under the mountain by now. I assume everything is going well down there?”

The friendliness of the speech took the light-gray figure completely by surprise. Of course, the fact that the man seemed to know about the plan also took him by surprise. At the worst, this could be some kind of ploy from the dragon father to get him to reveal some sort of truth about the plan. The light-gray figure decided that it would be best to play it safe. “I honestly don’t what you are talking about. Why would I be under the mountain with the huge spiders and the gnolls?”

The man spoke softly with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Oh, come now. You are telling me that you are simply hanging around this mountain cave for absolutely no reason at all?”

The light-gray figure eased out of the tree an inch more. The figure’s complete face appeared just over the edge of the tree bark. “I’m hanging around these parts because it is impossible for me to go any further!”

This revelation shocked the man who had come upon the entrance so cautiously. The man reached up and jerked his hood back so that he could get a good look at the ghostly figure. As he did so, he exclaimed in a slightly elevated voice. “You mean you can’t even go under the mountains?”

As the light-gray figure saw the man pull back his hood he recognized him immediately. “Semeion? What in the world are you still doing out of the cave? If the red wyrm were to find you out here he’d kill you on the spot!”

Semeion smiled grimly. There was a clear hint of dark playfulness in his expression. “He needs to catch me first. I’ve been outside the mountain tunnel for a while now and the dragon father has not yet found me. I highly doubt the dragon father even knows of my existence.”

The ghostly figure completely emerged from the tree. Rather than imitate walking, the light-gray figure floated an inch above the ground until he was only a matter of feet away from Semeion. “Even so, don’t you think you are tempting fate a bit by being here? And didn’t I notice a limp as you approached? Your leg looked rather tender as you came along the trail.”

Semeion looked down to his leg and then back up to the ghostly figure. “I’ll manage. I’ve survived for long enough out here. I can survive a bit longer. But you are still avoiding my original question. You cannot join us under the tunnels?”

The light-gray figure shook his head slowly from side to side. “The same magic that prevents me from leaving Quehalost is keeping me from entering the tunnels. I will not be joining you all even while you wait for the proper time to leave.”

Semeion looked back to the tunnel and then back to the light-gray figure. “I am sorry.” Semeion wasn’t really sure what else could be said.

The light-gray figure smiled at Semeion’s attempt to empathize with him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve spent long enough in this forsaken land. It’ll be less than a month from now and you all should return my possessions to my father. Then my time to leave will come. I can wait that long.” After speaking, the ghostly figure looked long and hard toward the tunnel entrance.

Semeion smiled in return. “I admire your patience.” The young mage’s face revealed that he could think of little else to say that would be meaningful at a time such as this.

The light-gray figure continued to look into the tunnel. “You never told me why you have the limp. But in all honesty, you’ve likely been here talking to me for long enough. Your luck will likely run out soon. I’d recommend you get moving.”

Semeion likewise turned to look at the cave entrance. He knew that freedom and life were represented by the coolness and darkness of the tunnel. He also knew that the tunnel represented freedom for the light-gray figure as well. “We’ll make your sacrifice worth it. I’ll rest easier knowing that you are watching out for our backs on this end.” He stepped to the tunnel.

The light-gray figure watched Ischarus as he approached the cave. “I’d recommend running, personally. The dragon father watches this entrance like a hawk. You not only need to cross the open area, but you also need to make sure that you get far enough down that tunnel to avoid the effects of his breath. After this many days, I’d expect his wrath to know little fury if he sees you. You’re going to catch the brunt of eight days of wrath in a very short span of time unless you hurry.”

Semeion breathed in deeply, knowing that his leg wouldn’t support the faster movement for very long. The catch was wondering how long his leg would hold out. The injury was serious, but not serious to prevent movement when not under duress. There was no telling how long the leg would last if it was put under the stress of running.

Semeion breathed in deeply and closed his eyes for a second. He wouldn’t make it far enough into the tunnel with a simple walk if the dragon father was watching. He would have to move with a greater speed than he desired. He looked back to the light-gray figure and watched the ghostly image meld back into the confines of the tree. Once the figure had everything hidden except for his eyes and nose within the flesh of the tree Semeion began to sprint towards the tunnel.

As he took his first step towards freedom he thought of Charis. He had often thought of Charis and how she must have missed him over the last week. In fact, he assumed that she had mourned his loss. He would enjoy proving her assumption false.

As he stepped out of the forest he heard the deep draconic cry come from high above the mountain pass. He had grown familiar with the cry from hearing it several times in the past week and a half, both before and after the village had been abandoned. Yet as he heard the draconic cry he could feel his leg giving out. Semeion crashed to the ground as a sharp pain surged up his broken leg.

Instantly his mind brought him back several months. For an instant Semeion was no longer in Quehalost as a freedom fighter. Once more Semeion was back upon the grassy hill where he watched his master die at the hands of the green dragon. As Semeion crashed down to the earth he rolled over onto his backside. Despite straining for an instant to look up into the sky Semeion could not see the red wyrm diving towards him from a great height. He knew dragon eyesight was better than that of a human, however. There could be no doubt that the dragon saw him stumble.

Semeion bit lightly into his lip as he rolled himself over. The pain from his now bleeding lip helped him ignore the throbbing pain he felt in his leg. Semeion lifted himself onto his good foot and began once again to make for the cave entrance. The pain was great, but the fear of dying was now even greater. Semeion endured the pain and as quickly as he could he hobbled to the cave entrance.

Semeion made it to the tunnel entrance before the dragon could land upon the ground. He had made it past the first major hazard. If he was going to die, he would die at the hands of the fiery breath of the dragon father. At least he wouldn’t be impaled from a dragon falling from a great height. Semeion chuckled to himself knowing that there was little consolation in dying by fire over dying by impalement.

Once he was inside the tunnel entrance, Semeion appreciated the support of the cool rock walls. With the rock to lean upon, Semeion could hobble along faster than in the open ground between the tunnel and the forest. When he was about twenty feet into the tunnel he heard the thunder of the ground shaking. The heavy weight of the dragon landing upon the solid ground sent shockwaves through the surrounding area. The roar of the beast echoed ominously from behind him. Semeion’s pace quickened, but pain continued to shoot through his foot.

The dragon peered into the tunnel with its ability to see into darkness. The beast saw that Semeion was rapidly fleeing down the tunnel. Much of this journey converged upon this single moment for Semeion. The red wyrm knew that time was running short and he breathed in deeply to make the most of what little time remained. When the beast exhaled the air was ignited in flame. The shockwave of heat expanding the air around the breath hit Semeion from the back and forced him forward onto his face.

The dragon waited for a few seconds until the flames and the heat died down within the tunnel. Looking once more into the cave the dragon saw that Semeion was laying on the floor without any sign of movement. The dragon pulled his head back in a proud statement of his ego. “When they see what I have done to this one they will all come back to me out of fear. And I will kill them all.”

The dragon looked once more into the cave to gloat over his first small but meaningful victory. To his surprise Semeion was no longer laying on the floor where he expected him. In fact, Semeion had vanished entirely.
[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

The father dragon looked down the tunnel in rage. As the light-gray figure looked on not knowing if Semeion had made it or not, the ghostly figure was sure that the red hue of the dragon’s scales increased in intensity. Whether this was true or not, the light-gray figure smiled. He would likely never know if Semeion had made it or not, but the change in coloration led him to believe that the dragon was angry. If the dragon was angry, the light-gray figure could assume that Semeion had managed to make it alive.

Inside the underground tunnel, Semeion had managed to survive being knocked forward from the surge of the warm air coming before the flame. The flames hadn’t actually reached Semeion. If they had, he would likely not have survived at all. As it were, the concussive force of the blow had nearly knocked him unconscious. As he flew through the air and approached his hard landing upon the solid ground he spotted the alcove that had been used as a storage area by Ischarus and Charis.

Semeion hit the ground hard, but not hard enough to completely make him lose consciousness. Out of the corner of his eye without lifting his head, Semeion could see the dragon peering in on him. Semeion waited long enough for the dragon to remove his head to gloat and quickly rose up and slipped into the alcove. By the time the dragon could peer down the tunnel once more, Semeion was in the alcove and resting safely upon the floor. The stress from the quick movement continued the severe and throbbing pain in his leg.

Outside the tunnel, the dragon lifted his head in rage. Grixanthrosilithiss roared deeply and loudly. The roar erupted through the valley and echoed off of all available surfaces. This was all that the light-gray figure needed to see in order to know that his original assumption had been right. Semeion had survived, and the dragon father was not pleased with this turn of events.

The dragon father stood by the tunnel entrance for nearly an hour, watching down the tunnel intently. After his original roar of frustration the dragon never once let his eyes leave the tunnel. He was sure that Semeion had been lying there one minute and then gone the next; and he was determined to make sure that he was not fooled by some type of magic. Several times the red dragon cast his spell that allowed him to see magical auras, but in each case the dragon father was able to see nothing suspicious within the tunnel. After an hour of waiting, the dragon rose up to his feet and launched himself into the air. It was time to go and check the other side of the mountain and make sure this had not been some kind of rouse.

Semeion lay on his back for several hours. He knew that so long as the dragon father was at the tunnel entrance he was only safe where he was in the tunnel. No natural inhabitants of the tunnel would come this close to an obviously unpleased dragon at the exit. A few times Semeion allowed himself to drift into a shallow uneasy sleep. The sleep allowed him to escape his leg pain for even a few moments.

Once Semeion had rested, he decided that he would take advantage of the time in the alcove to study his magic. From within one of his secure pouches on the inside of his cloak Semeion pulled a small book bound in leather. He found a place within the alcove that he felt confident about casting his light spell without spilling ambient lighting into the main corridor. Semeion sat down upon the ground and drew his cloak up tight around him to shield himself from the cool stone floor. Smiling, Semeion gathered up a small amount of the fabric of his cloak into his hand and spoke the simple arcane expression. “Arack.”

His cloak instantly began to glow with a soft light. The light was not bright at all and gave no warmth, but it would be enough to study his arcane texts for the time he would be caged within the alcove. Semeion’s light lasted for several hours before the magical power drained from his cloak. As it did, Semeion considered casting another spell and staying in the alcove just to be safe.

Instead, Semeion decided to stretch. His knees creaked from sitting upon the cold stone in the same position for so long. As soon as his knees complained from the position change, Semeion’s back and shoulders likewise began to throb. Semeion realized that his neck had begun to develop a bit of a kink from looking down to the book in his lap. Once his body had decided to object to the thought of staying in the position longer, Semeion rose to his feet to stretch. It seemed like a good time to check the hall and see if the dragon father was still waiting for him. It was only when Semeion peeked his head out of the alcove in order to check the tunnel did he find out that the dragon father had given up on Semeion some time ago.

With the dragon father gone and his magical talents refreshed, Semeion decided to begin the long trip to the cavern where he expected to find Charis, Rhema, and the villagers. It was normally a day trip, but Semeion realized that for him and his injured condition it would likely be a multiple day walk. Semeion breathed deeply and spoke aloud to encourage his decision. “The leg won’t get any better without healing. Charis can bring that. You just need to find her, Semeion.” Over the course of the past week, Semeion had begun talking to himself more and more to keep himself company. It was a feeble attempt to try and maintain his sanity against the odds of which he struggled.

Semeion stepped into the main passageway gingerly. Even though he couldn’t spot Grixanthrosilithiss at the tunnel entrance, he didn’t want to alert the dragon father by casting his spell too early. He wasn’t about to be in any particular hurry as he moved; his leg would not allow him to sustain that kind of speed. With his slowed speed, he was able to stumble forward in the darkness with relative ease. The side of the tunnel provided him with the stability that his leg couldn’t provide.

Once Semeion was far enough away from the tunnel entrance to enable him to feel that he had successfully escaped the grasp of Grixanthrosilithiss, Semeion pulled his sword out of the scabbard at his belt. Once again the magical word to create light came to his lips. “Arack.” The blade of his sword now glistened with the magical light. Given that the magic of the spell was concentrated on a much smaller object than his entire cloak, the blade glistened much more brightly than his cloak had earlier radiated light. Semeion smiled, transferred the sword to his off hand, and held the sword in front of him as he reached for the tunnel wall to once more stabilize him and allow him to move with some efficiency.

Fortunately for Semeion the tunnels were quiet with natural life. It seemed as though the gnoll presence was greatly reduced from what he had remembered from the last trip. It very well could be that the intrusion of the village into the underground cavern had caused a temporary restructuring of the territorial claims. It could simply be that Semeion was lucky. Either way, Semeion was able to make his multiple-day journey with confronting nothing more than the occasional spider and centipede.

The days were long and filled with a dull throbbing pain, but Semeion was able to walk through the pain knowing that Charis, Rhema, and the rest of the villagers waited for him. Suddenly Semeion stopped as he passed through the tunnel. “I wonder how the situation with the new Provenience had worked itself out?” Semeion hadn’t thought much about the new Provenience until now. He was drawing close to the chamber and it wouldn’t be long now until he found his answers. His mind couldn’t help but wander as he was this close to completing his journey.

In truth, it was slightly over three and a half more hours of walking before Semeion reached the outskirts of the village. The young mage wasn’t able to come upon the cave itself before finding signs of life. Instead, Semeion walked until he saw a small gathering of people in the tunnel ahead. He paused, obviously seeing them before they were able to see him. He counted eight people in all. Four of the people were active in some kind of task along the walls. Of the remaining four, two of them were closest to him and the other two were the farthest from his position. Each of these four members was armed with what looked like axes and wooden bucklers. Each of the four who were not involved in the task along the side of the walls had a torch in the hand that supported the buckler.

Semeion studied the people for an instant, releasing the arcane magic of the light that he had been using. His portion of the tunnel went dark, but it allowed him to see the group ahead of him better. It also allowed him to creep forward a considerable distance more before being discovered. As he moved forward he was able to discern two significant details. The group was made up of people that looked human. The second fact that Semeion was able to discern was that the group spoke in the draconic language to one another. Semeion smiled as he made this second revelation.

Semeion called out loud enough for the entire group to hear. “Has Druff found his freedom?”

The message was simple, but it would tell the group ahead of him two things. First, it would alert them to his presence. Second, it would tell them that he was a friend of Druff. If this group was part of the villagers as he suspected, that should immediately put them at ease.

At the sound of Semeion’s voice each of the group looked up. The two guards that were farthest from Semeion quickly crossed through the four members at work and joined the two nearest to him. The four sentries exchanged questioning glances before responding. “Druff is indeed free. Step into the light so that we may see you.”

Semeion smiled even more broadly when they replied. He stepped forward slowly and explained as he moved. “Have patience with me, my leg is desperately wounded!” The group stared in his direction until Semeion broke into the light.

As Semeion crossed into the radius of the light from the guards, each of the guards gasped in recognition. They could not forget the face of the one who had come and learned their customs to take Darrok’s place. Nor could they forget the face of the one that Charis and Rhema had told them had died to save Darrok’s own daughter. The leader of the guards asked, “Semeion? Is that you? We were told that you had died at the hands of the Provenience.”

Semeion chuckled. “Apparently the truth of my death has been exaggerated from rumors. Will you help me back to find all of my friends?”

The leader of the guards nodded and the other three stowed their weapons and rushed toward Semeion to aid him. The group along the side of the tunnel that had been collecting water stopped their task and stood to see Semeion’s arrival. The leader of the water collection task force spoke to the leader of the guards. “We’ve got enough to return home. If he’s that injured, we must take him to Charis now.”

The leader of the guards nodded in agreement. “Stegga, Barah, and Alessa – carry him to the village. We will follow you.”

The villagers quickly returned down the familiar tunnels until they approached the main chamber that held the rest of the villagers. When the chamber came into view, the guards who were carrying Semeion began to shout out for assistance. “Call Charis, we need assistance!” “Call Druff, he will want to see what we have found!” “Call Rhema and Xando, they will want to see this.”

At once the village came to life. Most of the villagers came to the entrance where the tunnel met the chamber to see what the commotion was about. One child in particular heard the call for Charis and charged to the small alcove where the food and water rationing had been located. “Misselle,” as many of the young children had come to call Rhema and Charis, “Come quickly. Something is happening at the chamber entrance!”

Charis and Tierna exchanged confused glances before Charis spoke orders. “Tierna, come with me. Maya,” Charis looked to the young girl that had alerted her, “you need to stay here and watch the food. Do not eat or drink anything and tell me if anyone comes in here.” Both Tierna and Maya nodded and then exchanged positions.

Charis and Tierna charged out of the small storage area and immediately Charis saw Rhema. She was crying and pointing to the entrance. Charis turned and saw that Druff and Xando were in the sea of villagers and there was someone in the middle. As the crowd flowed together and people seemed to celebrate, Charis caught a glimpse of who was in the center. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears as she recognized the man who was being carried. He looked seriously wounded and in pain, but she recognized him all the same.

Rhema approached Charis and embraced her in a hug. Charis was frozen in disbelief. She stared into the pack of villagers as they slowly brought Semeion towards her. As the closed the gap, Semeion caught sight of Charis. He could see her crying as she watched him approach. The new Provenience stood behind Charis as if in a position of honorable service. That was all he needed to know. The crowd brought Semeion the whole way to Charis and Rhema and Charis found herself unable to speak.

Semeion could talk. He had managed to accomplish his mission. He had made it back to Charis and the villagers. “You can’t get rid of me that quickly.” Semeion smiled and laughed as he tried to stand. His legs began to give way as Rhema reached out and caught him.

Rhema spoke as she caught him. “But, how? You, there was no place for you to go!”

Semeion smiled. “Forgive me for not telling you my plan, Rhema. I had a spell that I had been working on for the several days we waited while the supplies were collected. It allows me to fall from a considerable distance without injury. It worked!”

Rhema looked to Semeion and reacted in shock at his appearance. “It worked? Look at yourself!”

Semeion smiled some more. “Well, it worked against the ground. The trees in my way didn’t listen as well. A few of the limbs broke my leg and a few ribs I think. But I landed on the ground softly! Once I was down on the ground I passed out from pain. I awoke at least one full day later, maybe more.” Semeion looked to Charis and held her gaze.

Charis still couldn’t speak, but she reached out and embraced him in a deep hug. As she touched him, a yellow glow formed an aura around her body. The aura surrounded Semeion as well and then seemed to be absorbed into Semeion’s wounds. As they embraced, Semeion’s deep wounds were healed. At the sight of the golden aura, the villagers erupted in a loud cheer. Semeion looked around and noticed that at least one other person was affected besides Rhema and Charis. Tierna was also crying and smiling.


[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
The father dragon looked down the tunnel in rage. As the light-gray figure looked on not knowing if Semeion had made it or not, the ghostly figure was sure that the red hue of the dragon’s scales increased in intensity. Whether this was true or not, the light-gray figure smiled. He would likely never know if Semeion had made it or not, but the change in coloration led him to believe that the dragon was angry. If the dragon was angry, the light-gray figure could assume that Semeion had managed to make it alive.

Inside the underground tunnel, Semeion had managed to survive being knocked forward from the surge of the warm air coming before the flame. The flames hadn’t actually reached Semeion. If they had, he would likely not have survived at all. As it were, the concussive force of the blow had nearly knocked him unconscious. As he flew through the air and approached his hard landing upon the solid ground he spotted the alcove that had been used as a storage area by Ischarus and Charis.

Semeion hit the ground hard, but not hard enough to completely make him lose consciousness. Out of the corner of his eye without lifting his head, Semeion could see the dragon peering in on him. Semeion waited long enough for the dragon to remove his head to gloat and quickly rose up and slipped into the alcove. By the time the dragon could peer down the tunnel once more, Semeion was in the alcove and resting safely upon the floor. The stress from the quick movement continued the severe and throbbing pain in his leg.

Outside the tunnel, the dragon lifted his head in rage. Grixanthrosilithiss roared deeply and loudly. The roar erupted through the valley and echoed off of all available surfaces. This was all that the light-gray figure needed to see in order to know that his original assumption had been right. Semeion had survived, and the dragon father was not pleased with this turn of events.

The dragon father stood by the tunnel entrance for nearly an hour, watching down the tunnel intently. After his original roar of frustration the dragon never once let his eyes leave the tunnel. He was sure that Semeion had been lying there one minute and then gone the next; and he was determined to make sure that he was not fooled by some type of magic. Several times the red dragon cast his spell that allowed him to see magical auras, but in each case the dragon father was able to see nothing suspicious within the tunnel. After an hour of waiting, the dragon rose up to his feet and launched himself into the air. It was time to go and check the other side of the mountain and make sure this had not been some kind of rouse.

Semeion lay on his back for several hours. He knew that so long as the dragon father was at the tunnel entrance he was only safe where he was in the tunnel. No natural inhabitants of the tunnel would come this close to an obviously unpleased dragon at the exit. A few times Semeion allowed himself to drift into a shallow uneasy sleep. The sleep allowed him to escape his leg pain for even a few moments.

Once Semeion had rested, he decided that he would take advantage of the time in the alcove to study his magic. From within one of his secure pouches on the inside of his cloak Semeion pulled a small book bound in leather. He found a place within the alcove that he felt confident about casting his light spell without spilling ambient lighting into the main corridor. Semeion sat down upon the ground and drew his cloak up tight around him to shield himself from the cool stone floor. Smiling, Semeion gathered up a small amount of the fabric of his cloak into his hand and spoke the simple arcane expression. “Arack.”

His cloak instantly began to glow with a soft light. The light was not bright at all and gave no warmth, but it would be enough to study his arcane texts for the time he would be caged within the alcove. Semeion’s light lasted for several hours before the magical power drained from his cloak. As it did, Semeion considered casting another spell and staying in the alcove just to be safe.

Instead, Semeion decided to stretch. His knees creaked from sitting upon the cold stone in the same position for so long. As soon as his knees complained from the position change, Semeion’s back and shoulders likewise began to throb. Semeion realized that his neck had begun to develop a bit of a kink from looking down to the book in his lap. Once his body had decided to object to the thought of staying in the position longer, Semeion rose to his feet to stretch. It seemed like a good time to check the hall and see if the dragon father was still waiting for him. It was only when Semeion peeked his head out of the alcove in order to check the tunnel did he find out that the dragon father had given up on Semeion some time ago.

With the dragon father gone and his magical talents refreshed, Semeion decided to begin the long trip to the cavern where he expected to find Charis, Rhema, and the villagers. It was normally a day trip, but Semeion realized that for him and his injured condition it would likely be a multiple day walk. Semeion breathed deeply and spoke aloud to encourage his decision. “The leg won’t get any better without healing. Charis can bring that. You just need to find her, Semeion.” Over the course of the past week, Semeion had begun talking to himself more and more to keep himself company. It was a feeble attempt to try and maintain his sanity against the odds of which he struggled.

Semeion stepped into the main passageway gingerly. Even though he couldn’t spot Grixanthrosilithiss at the tunnel entrance, he didn’t want to alert the dragon father by casting his spell too early. He wasn’t about to be in any particular hurry as he moved; his leg would not allow him to sustain that kind of speed. With his slowed speed, he was able to stumble forward in the darkness with relative ease. The side of the tunnel provided him with the stability that his leg couldn’t provide.

Once Semeion was far enough away from the tunnel entrance to enable him to feel that he had successfully escaped the grasp of Grixanthrosilithiss, Semeion pulled his sword out of the scabbard at his belt. Once again the magical word to create light came to his lips. “Arack.” The blade of his sword now glistened with the magical light. Given that the magic of the spell was concentrated on a much smaller object than his entire cloak, the blade glistened much more brightly than his cloak had earlier radiated light. Semeion smiled, transferred the sword to his off hand, and held the sword in front of him as he reached for the tunnel wall to once more stabilize him and allow him to move with some efficiency.

Fortunately for Semeion the tunnels were quiet with natural life. It seemed as though the gnoll presence was greatly reduced from what he had remembered from the last trip. It very well could be that the intrusion of the village into the underground cavern had caused a temporary restructuring of the territorial claims. It could simply be that Semeion was lucky. Either way, Semeion was able to make his multiple-day journey with confronting nothing more than the occasional spider and centipede.

The days were long and filled with a dull throbbing pain, but Semeion was able to walk through the pain knowing that Charis, Rhema, and the rest of the villagers waited for him. Suddenly Semeion stopped as he passed through the tunnel. “I wonder how the situation with the new Provenience had worked itself out?” Semeion hadn’t thought much about the new Provenience until now. He was drawing close to the chamber and it wouldn’t be long now until he found his answers. His mind couldn’t help but wander as he was this close to completing his journey.

In truth, it was slightly over three and a half more hours of walking before Semeion reached the outskirts of the village. The young mage wasn’t able to come upon the cave itself before finding signs of life. Instead, Semeion walked until he saw a small gathering of people in the tunnel ahead. He paused, obviously seeing them before they were able to see him. He counted eight people in all. Four of the people were active in some kind of task along the walls. Of the remaining four, two of them were closest to him and the other two were the farthest from his position. Each of these four members was armed with what looked like axes and wooden bucklers. Each of the four who were not involved in the task along the side of the walls had a torch in the hand that supported the buckler.

Semeion studied the people for an instant, releasing the arcane magic of the light that he had been using. His portion of the tunnel went dark, but it allowed him to see the group ahead of him better. It also allowed him to creep forward a considerable distance more before being discovered. As he moved forward he was able to discern two significant details. The group was made up of people that looked human. The second fact that Semeion was able to discern was that the group spoke in the draconic language to one another. Semeion smiled as he made this second revelation.

Semeion called out loud enough for the entire group to hear. “Has Druff found his freedom?”

The message was simple, but it would tell the group ahead of him two things. First, it would alert them to his presence. Second, it would tell them that he was a friend of Druff. If this group was part of the villagers as he suspected, that should immediately put them at ease.

At the sound of Semeion’s voice each of the group looked up. The two guards that were farthest from Semeion quickly crossed through the four members at work and joined the two nearest to him. The four sentries exchanged questioning glances before responding. “Druff is indeed free. Step into the light so that we may see you.”

Semeion smiled even more broadly when they replied. He stepped forward slowly and explained as he moved. “Have patience with me, my leg is desperately wounded!” The group stared in his direction until Semeion broke into the light.

As Semeion crossed into the radius of the light from the guards, each of the guards gasped in recognition. They could not forget the face of the one who had come and learned their customs to take Darrok’s place. Nor could they forget the face of the one that Charis and Rhema had told them had died to save Darrok’s own daughter. The leader of the guards asked, “Semeion? Is that you? We were told that you had died at the hands of the Provenience.”

Semeion chuckled. “Apparently the truth of my death has been exaggerated from rumors. Will you help me back to find all of my friends?”

The leader of the guards nodded and the other three stowed their weapons and rushed toward Semeion to aid him. The group along the side of the tunnel that had been collecting water stopped their task and stood to see Semeion’s arrival. The leader of the water collection task force spoke to the leader of the guards. “We’ve got enough to return home. If he’s that injured, we must take him to Charis now.”

The leader of the guards nodded in agreement. “Stegga, Barah, and Alessa – carry him to the village. We will follow you.”

The villagers quickly returned down the familiar tunnels until they approached the main chamber that held the rest of the villagers. When the chamber came into view, the guards who were carrying Semeion began to shout out for assistance. “Call Charis, we need assistance!” “Call Druff, he will want to see what we have found!” “Call Rhema and Xando, they will want to see this.”

At once the village came to life. Most of the villagers came to the entrance where the tunnel met the chamber to see what the commotion was about. One child in particular heard the call for Charis and charged to the small alcove where the food and water rationing had been located. “Misselle,” as many of the young children had come to call Rhema and Charis, “Come quickly. Something is happening at the chamber entrance!”

Charis and Tierna exchanged confused glances before Charis spoke orders. “Tierna, come with me. Maya,” Charis looked to the young girl that had alerted her, “you need to stay here and watch the food. Do not eat or drink anything and tell me if anyone comes in here.” Both Tierna and Maya nodded and then exchanged positions.

Charis and Tierna charged out of the small storage area and immediately Charis saw Rhema. She was crying and pointing to the entrance. Charis turned and saw that Druff and Xando were in the sea of villagers and there was someone in the middle. As the crowd flowed together and people seemed to celebrate, Charis caught a glimpse of who was in the center. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears as she recognized the man who was being carried. He looked seriously wounded and in pain, but she recognized him all the same.

Rhema approached Charis and embraced her in a hug. Charis was frozen in disbelief. She stared into the pack of villagers as they slowly brought Semeion towards her. As the closed the gap, Semeion caught sight of Charis. He could see her crying as she watched him approach. The new Provenience stood behind Charis as if in a position of honorable service. That was all he needed to know. The crowd brought Semeion the whole way to Charis and Rhema and Charis found herself unable to speak.

Semeion could talk. He had managed to accomplish his mission. He had made it back to Charis and the villagers. “You can’t get rid of me that quickly.” Semeion smiled and laughed as he tried to stand. His legs began to give way as Rhema reached out and caught him.

Rhema spoke as she caught him. “But, how? You, there was no place for you to go!”

Semeion smiled. “Forgive me for not telling you my plan, Rhema. I had a spell that I had been working on for the several days we waited while the supplies were collected. It allows me to fall from a considerable distance without injury. It worked!”

Rhema looked to Semeion and reacted in shock at his appearance. “It worked? Look at yourself!”

Semeion smiled some more. “Well, it worked against the ground. The trees in my way didn’t listen as well. A few of the limbs broke my leg and a few ribs I think. But I landed on the ground softly! Once I was down on the ground I passed out from pain. I awoke at least one full day later, maybe more.” Semeion looked to Charis and held her gaze.

Charis still couldn’t speak, but she reached out and embraced him in a deep hug. As she touched him, a yellow glow formed an aura around her body. The aura surrounded Semeion as well and then seemed to be absorbed into Semeion’s wounds. As they embraced, Semeion’s deep wounds were healed. At the sight of the golden aura, the villagers erupted in a loud cheer. Semeion looked around and noticed that at least one other person was affected besides Rhema and Charis. Tierna was also crying and smiling.[/Sblock]

 

[Nonlethal Force]

Chapter Fourteen: FIDELITY THROUGH PIETY

Twenty three days of as near of a normal life as possible passed for the people underground. Life was made considerably easier for the people of the village with Semeion’s return. Those who were venturing out into the caverns to collect water no longer had to choose between holding a shield and holding a torch. Semeion magically enchanted shields so that they acted as beacons of light. Within the cavern the villagers continued to light fires for heat, but Semeion’s magic helped everything else including improving the taste of the stored food.

Outside the mountain, Grixanthrosilithiss lifted his head from where it laid upon the perch. He thought for an instant that he saw movement along the horizon. He focused hard as he looked to the north. His scaled draconic eyelids squeezed together as the father dragon peered as hard as he could. The glimmer of light that had caught his eye had vanished; but the dragon was not convinced that it had been in his imagination.

The red wyrm lifted his massive body off of the rock surface and uncoiled his wings. He leapt off of the mountain edge on the Quehalost side and plummeted toward the earth. As he picked up speed he quickly unfurled his wings and pulled upward into a surge. His wings beat hard and he easily climbed back to his original height and beyond. He navigated his way along the mountain ridge until he approached his perch on the Tongra side of the mountains. He landed upon his perch and examined the horizon from his closer position. Once more his eyes squinted. This time they saw the glint of light that he knew was there. In fact, there were three glimmers of light, not just one.

Grixanthrosilithiss smiled and spoke to himself. “So, they finally come. This is what the villagers have been waiting for underneath the mountain. There apparently is a greater power working against me. This time the force is organizing my villagers to rise up against me. They will fail, and I will find those responsible and kill them.” The red wyrm lowered his body to the ground and tried to blend in with the side of the mountain. He had already seen the glint coming toward him. There was no need to let them see him in return.

Slowly the glint of light drew closer. Scores of minutes passed as the red wyrm stayed still, trying to blend in with the side of the mountain. He watch as his opponents came steadily closer, now skimming just over the top of the trees. As they drew increasingly closer, Grixanthrosilithiss was able to identify his opponents in greater detail. Again he spoke to himself, thinking out loud as he did. “Of course they would bring the support of the dragons of the north lands. It is no matter. The cowardice of the gold, silver, and bronze beasts flying toward me will show through as they face against my greatness. My wrath with overcome their timidity in battle. Their noble ways will succumb to my raw power.”

As the trio of dragons drew closer to the mountain they tightened up their ranks and closed in on the tops of the trees. They planned to come in low. Grixanthrosilithiss noticed that the silver dragon had a rider, but the rider was obviously not a mounted combatant. The rider carried no lance or spear. With the exception of being a sentry upon the beast’s back he would serve no purpose. The red wyrm knew that there were few human magicians of whom he needed to have any fear regarding their magical power.

The trio of dragons quickly reached the edge of the mountain and they began to soar up the mountainous incline. Suddenly the silver dragon broke apart from the trio and landed just outside the tunnel entrance that Rhema and Ischarus always used to enter the mountainous depths from the Tongra side. Once the dragon had settled lightly upon the rock perch the silver wyrm lowered his head and allowed the rider to disembark.

The rider slid off the dragon’s back and continued to protest to the silver dragon. “Ausaphaborishan, I do not see why I cannot at least watch the battle from the safety of this landing!”

The dragon smiled and turned his head to face the rider. “Ischarus, in my five hundred and twenty years of fighting evil – especially evil dragons – I know that it is no place for my children. There may come a time when you can face a dragon and be victorious, but right now Llywessiar is correct. You would be a pawn waiting to be used against us. Should your life be threatened our position would be weakened. Now go into the cave and bring forth your people. The three of us led by Llywessiar will handle the red wyrm called Grixanthrosilithiss.”

Ischarus frowned, but knew that the advice given by the gold dragon and relayed to him by the silver dragon would most likely prove correct. There was little he could do in combat. He knew that he wanted to watch simply for the sake of his own curiosity. He smiled and raised a challenging finger toward the dragon’s face. “You must promise to tell me stories of the battle when I return home, dragon father. I want to hear every detail of your great victory. I will hear of how Llywessiar the gold wyrm, Sappurapolician the bronze wyrm, and my dragon father Ausaphaborishan the silver wyrm defeated the red wyrm Grixanthrosilithiss of Quehalost. I will tell those tales to my children!”

The silver dragon allowed a deep rumble to issue from his chest. “That is the fire that I have come to love, Ischarus. That is why I sent you into the world – into Quehalost. You make me proud with your passion.” The dragon lifted its right front foot and very delicately rubbed the top of Ischarus’ head. Although Ischarus was clearly a grown man, he felt very much like a little child again as he stood beside the great silver wyrm. The dragon gave Ischarus a cue to leave. “Now go, Ischarus. Llywessiar will get mad if you stay too much longer.”

Ischarus bowed lowly and turned into the tunnel. As he did, Ausaphaborishan smiled. He would give him one more gift. He muttered the single arcane word that Semeion had used so often. “Arack.” Ischarus’ sword illuminated as if it were a torch. The Drakontos man turned around and smiled at his dragon father before turning back and charging deeper into the tunnels.

While Ischarus was talking with his dragon father, Llywessiar and Sappurapolician climbed a few dozen feet before performing a wingover maneuver and flying across the surface of the trees once more. They circled just above the trees until they saw Ischarus head into the tunnel. Llywessiar turned his great head in the direction of the smaller bronze dragon and smiled. “Sappurapolician, the time has come to chase evil from our land. The red threatens to push its way out of Quehalost and such an action will not be tolerated.”

The bronze dragon smiled in return, knowing that it flew with a dragon who was much more experienced in these matters that he was. In fact, Sappurapolician knew that he was the youngest and smallest of the three. Yet the dragon council had chosen him to fly with both Llywessiar and Ausaphaborishan. The young bronze dragon would make them proud. “It is as good a day to die as any, Llywessiar.”

The gold wyrm laughed as he approached Ausaphaborishan’s position. “Especially if you are evil!” The deep voice of the tremendous gold dragon rumbled across the valley.

Ausaphaborishan launched himself into the air to join his flight partners. “It is as good of a day as any, that is for sure. Any day that an entire evil dragon loses control of all those he oppresses is a good day!”

The dragons circled atop the trees once more and picked up speed. The sight of the massive dragon flight was absolutely tremendous. Sappurapolician was the smallest of the three, although in practicality he was only slightly smaller than Ausaphaborishan. The body of the silver was more massive, but the bronze dragon’s tail extended out farther than his silver’s counterpart. Both dragons were dwarfed by the older and more mature gold leader. Llywessiar was easily over thirty feet longer than either of the other dragons and his tail itself was over forty feet in length.

Perhaps the most impressive sight in consideration of their size was their tremendous wingspan. Outside of coloration, the bronze and the silver looked similar from below. As they prepared to climb the steep face of the mountains, each of the dragons extended their wings to the maximum possible wingspan. The webbing between the bronze dragon’s forward three phalanges was quite visible. The actual wing connected to the rear of the third phalange and both wings together spanned slightly over sixty feet in width. From a position above the bronze dragon it was possible to see the sunlight glistening off of his metallic skin. The dragon cast a large shadow below.

Ausaphaborishan’s silhouette looked quite similar to Sappurapolician’s silhouette except that the wing connected to the back of the second phalange and there was no visible webbing between the forward phalanges. Altogether, the silver wyrm’s wingspan stretched almost to eighty feet.

The most impressive silhouette was cast by Llywessiar. Rather than casting a silhouette like that of a bird and the other dragons, Llywessiar’s silhouette was like that of a kite. The gold dragon’s wingspan was only slightly wider than that of the silver dragon’s wingspan, but the fact that the wing ran from the dragon’s shoulders all the way back to the tip of the tail gave this dragon an impressive shadow. From below, the gold dragon looked like an enormous triangular kite rippling shoulder to tail in the wind.

The dragons made the turn and began ascending the mountain face to meet the opposing red wyrm. As they did, three cries sounded from within the forest beneath them. At the sound of the cries, each of the dragons turned their heads back to see three green dragons leaping out of the forest. The dragons were all smaller than either Llywessiar or Ausaphaborishan. Most likely these dragons were a family unit that felt threatened by the sudden appearance of such powerful foes.

The largest of the green dragons surged forward and was flanked by the other two. “I am Kalliaxis and bring Starigonnilann and Aurigraphillienne to fight with me. You will regret trespassing over our forest!”

Grixanthrosilithiss saw the green dragons surge up behind the trio. He laughed as he saw his advantage. The green dragons were far from being his allies, yet he was not opposed to using them to lessen his own fight. One last time before the battle was joined he spoke arrogantly to himself. “The enemy of my enemies is my friend, at least temporarily.” The red wyrm stood up with great speed and grace and leapt off his draconic perch along the mountain face. He looked down upon the three dragons that were now outnumbered. “You have come for me, gold? Then meet Grixanthrosilithiss and meet your death!”

Llywessair snapped his head around at the challenge from the red wyrm above the trio of dragons. “Four on three, I like these odds! You will grow up today, Sappurapolician”

[Sblock=Color-Free Speech Section]
Chapter Fourteen: FIDELITY THROUGH PIETY

Twenty three days of as near of a normal life as possible passed for the people underground. Life was made considerably easier for the people of the village with Semeion’s return. Those who were venturing out into the caverns to collect water no longer had to choose between holding a shield and holding a torch. Semeion magically enchanted shields so that they acted as beacons of light. Within the cavern the villagers continued to light fires for heat, but Semeion’s magic helped everything else including improving the taste of the stored food.

Outside the mountain, Grixanthrosilithiss lifted his head from where it laid upon the perch. He thought for an instant that he saw movement along the horizon. He focused hard as he looked to the north. His scaled draconic eyelids squeezed together as the father dragon peered as hard as he could. The glimmer of light that had caught his eye had vanished; but the dragon was not convinced that it had been in his imagination.

The red wyrm lifted his massive body off of the rock surface and uncoiled his wings. He leapt off of the mountain edge on the Quehalost side and plummeted toward the earth. As he picked up speed he quickly unfurled his wings and pulled upward into a surge. His wings beat hard and he easily climbed back to his original height and beyond. He navigated his way along the mountain ridge until he approached his perch on the Tongra side of the mountains. He landed upon his perch and examined the horizon from his closer position. Once more his eyes squinted. This time they saw the glint of light that he knew was there. In fact, there were three glimmers of light, not just one.

Grixanthrosilithiss smiled and spoke to himself. “So, they finally come. This is what the villagers have been waiting for underneath the mountain. There apparently is a greater power working against me. This time the force is organizing my villagers to rise up against me. They will fail, and I will find those responsible and kill them.” The red wyrm lowered his body to the ground and tried to blend in with the side of the mountain. He had already seen the glint coming toward him. There was no need to let them see him in return.

Slowly the glint of light drew closer. Scores of minutes passed as the red wyrm stayed still, trying to blend in with the side of the mountain. He watch as his opponents came steadily closer, now skimming just over the top of the trees. As they drew increasingly closer, Grixanthrosilithiss was able to identify his opponents in greater detail. Again he spoke to himself, thinking out loud as he did. “Of course they would bring the support of the dragons of the north lands. It is no matter. The cowardice of the gold, silver, and bronze beasts flying toward me will show through as they face against my greatness. My wrath with overcome their timidity in battle. Their noble ways will succumb to my raw power.”

As the trio of dragons drew closer to the mountain they tightened up their ranks and closed in on the tops of the trees. They planned to come in low. Grixanthrosilithiss noticed that the silver dragon had a rider, but the rider was obviously not a mounted combatant. The rider carried no lance or spear. With the exception of being a sentry upon the beast’s back he would serve no purpose. The red wyrm knew that there were few human magicians of whom he needed to have any fear regarding their magical power.

The trio of dragons quickly reached the edge of the mountain and they began to soar up the mountainous incline. Suddenly the silver dragon broke apart from the trio and landed just outside the tunnel entrance that Rhema and Ischarus always used to enter the mountainous depths from the Tongra side. Once the dragon had settled lightly upon the rock perch the silver wyrm lowered his head and allowed the rider to disembark.

The rider slid off the dragon’s back and continued to protest to the silver dragon. “Ausaphaborishan, I do not see why I cannot at least watch the battle from the safety of this landing!”

The dragon smiled and turned his head to face the rider. “Ischarus, in my five hundred and twenty years of fighting evil – especially evil dragons – I know that it is no place for my children. There may come a time when you can face a dragon and be victorious, but right now Llywessiar is correct. You would be a pawn waiting to be used against us. Should your life be threatened our position would be weakened. Now go into the cave and bring forth your people. The three of us led by Llywessiar will handle the red wyrm called Grixanthrosilithiss.”

Ischarus frowned, but knew that the advice given by the gold dragon and relayed to him by the silver dragon would most likely prove correct. There was little he could do in combat. He knew that he wanted to watch simply for the sake of his own curiosity. He smiled and raised a challenging finger toward the dragon’s face. “You must promise to tell me stories of the battle when I return home, dragon father. I want to hear every detail of your great victory. I will hear of how Llywessiar the gold wyrm, Sappurapolician the bronze wyrm, and my dragon father Ausaphaborishan the silver wyrm defeated the red wyrm Grixanthrosilithiss of Quehalost. I will tell those tales to my children!”

The silver dragon allowed a deep rumble to issue from his chest. “That is the fire that I have come to love, Ischarus. That is why I sent you into the world – into Quehalost. You make me proud with your passion.” The dragon lifted its right front foot and very delicately rubbed the top of Ischarus’ head. Although Ischarus was clearly a grown man, he felt very much like a little child again as he stood beside the great silver wyrm. The dragon gave Ischarus a cue to leave. “Now go, Ischarus. Llywessiar will get mad if you stay too much longer.”

Ischarus bowed lowly and turned into the tunnel. As he did, Ausaphaborishan smiled. He would give him one more gift. He muttered the single arcane word that Semeion had used so often. “Arack.” Ischarus’ sword illuminated as if it were a torch. The Drakontos man turned around and smiled at his dragon father before turning back and charging deeper into the tunnels.

While Ischarus was talking with his dragon father, Llywessiar and Sappurapolician climbed a few dozen feet before performing a wingover maneuver and flying across the surface of the trees once more. They circled just above the trees until they saw Ischarus head into the tunnel. Llywessiar turned his great head in the direction of the smaller bronze dragon and smiled. “Sappurapolician, the time has come to chase evil from our land. The red threatens to push its way out of Quehalost and such an action will not be tolerated.”

The bronze dragon smiled in return, knowing that it flew with a dragon who was much more experienced in these matters that he was. In fact, Sappurapolician knew that he was the youngest and smallest of the three. Yet the dragon council had chosen him to fly with both Llywessiar and Ausaphaborishan. The young bronze dragon would make them proud. “It is as good a day to die as any, Llywessiar.”

The gold wyrm laughed as he approached Ausaphaborishan’s position. “Especially if you are evil!” The deep voice of the tremendous gold dragon rumbled across the valley.

Ausaphaborishan launched himself into the air to join his flight partners. “It is as good of a day as any, that is for sure. Any day that an entire evil dragon loses control of all those he oppresses is a good day!”

The dragons circled atop the trees once more and picked up speed. The sight of the massive dragon flight was absolutely tremendous. Sappurapolician was the smallest of the three, although in practicality he was only slightly smaller than Ausaphaborishan. The body of the silver was more massive, but the bronze dragon’s tail extended out farther than his silver’s counterpart. Both dragons were dwarfed by the older and more mature gold leader. Llywessiar was easily over thirty feet longer than either of the other dragons and his tail itself was over forty feet in length.

Perhaps the most impressive sight in consideration of their size was their tremendous wingspan. Outside of coloration, the bronze and the silver looked similar from below. As they prepared to climb the steep face of the mountains, each of the dragons extended their wings to the maximum possible wingspan. The webbing between the bronze dragon’s forward three phalanges was quite visible. The actual wing connected to the rear of the third phalange and both wings together spanned slightly over sixty feet in width. From a position above the bronze dragon it was possible to see the sunlight glistening off of his metallic skin. The dragon cast a large shadow below.

Ausaphaborishan’s silhouette looked quite similar to Sappurapolician’s silhouette except that the wing connected to the back of the second phalange and there was no visible webbing between the forward phalanges. Altogether, the silver wyrm’s wingspan stretched almost to eighty feet.

The most impressive silhouette was cast by Llywessiar. Rather than casting a silhouette like that of a bird and the other dragons, Llywessiar’s silhouette was like that of a kite. The gold dragon’s wingspan was only slightly wider than that of the silver dragon’s wingspan, but the fact that the wing ran from the dragon’s shoulders all the way back to the tip of the tail gave this dragon an impressive shadow. From below, the gold dragon looked like an enormous triangular kite rippling shoulder to tail in the wind.

The dragons made the turn and began ascending the mountain face to meet the opposing red wyrm. As they did, three cries sounded from within the forest beneath them. At the sound of the cries, each of the dragons turned their heads back to see three green dragons leaping out of the forest. The dragons were all smaller than either Llywessiar or Ausaphaborishan. Most likely these dragons were a family unit that felt threatened by the sudden appearance of such powerful foes.

The largest of the green dragons surged forward and was flanked by the other two. “I am Kalliaxis and bring Starigonnilann and Aurigraphillienne to fight with me. You will regret trespassing over our forest!”

Grixanthrosilithiss saw the green dragons surge up behind the trio. He laughed as he saw his advantage. The green dragons were far from being his allies, yet he was not opposed to using them to lessen his own fight. One last time before the battle was joined he spoke arrogantly to himself. “The enemy of my enemies is my friend, at least temporarily.” The red wyrm stood up with great speed and grace and leapt off his draconic perch along the mountain face. He looked down upon the three dragons that were now outnumbered. “You have come for me, gold? Then meet Grixanthrosilithiss and meet your death!”

Llywessair snapped his head around at the challenge from the red wyrm above the trio of dragons. “Four on three, I like these odds! You will grow up today, Sappurapolician”
[/Sblock]