Northern Tales (Kalamar)
- Thread starter Wicht
- Start date
Wicht
Hero
Tale 2 – Black Waters
Part 1
The horsemen stood upon the rise, if one could call a fifteen foot change in elevation a rise, and watched them approach. The land was very flat here, just south of the great Rytarr woods. It was a rugged land, filled with horses, buffalo, reindeer and the occasional man. It was a land where the wind, when it blew, swept by swiftly. Warm and swift in the summer, cold and swift in the winter. It was a land in which a man could get lost.
Or a woman.
“Maybe they know where to find this village,” said Hulmar to Leesarel. Hulmar was Leesarel’s cousin and as usual, he was very polite to her, even when he thought the situation was her fault.
“It has to be around here someplace,” muttered Durunak, the shaggy looking dwarf who was walking just a short way behind the two elves.
Leesarel tried not to let the dwarf’s surely attitude affect her. The others looked to her as a leader, both because of her age (She was 50 years older then Hulmar and almost a hundred years older than either of the two dwarves. She did not even bother to try and compare her age to that of Bo, their halfling archer or Minlion, her human friend.) and because this excursion had been her idea. She did not feel comfortable as a leader, hated to take the blame for being lost and did not want to look like a failure in the eyes of anyone.
She had no idea what the job they were about to volunteer for entailed, but had hearing through her superiors of a town in need, she had pushed herself forward as a volunteer (along with her friends whom she knew to be on their way to see her.) Nobody had mentioned, either, at the time that there were no roads leading to Darkonirr, the village in question.
“Let’s ask them,” said Leesarel looking at the horsemen with her keen elvish vision, “They are Dejy, nomads who raise horses. Really Big horses.”
“I wonder how much one of their horses cost?” mused Bo.
“Probably more than you have,” said Hulmar.
“I wouldn’t mind a horse,” said Zurmak, Durunak’s cousin, no doubt thinking of the hundreds of miles he had walked over the past month.
“What do you need a horse for,” groused Durunak in his harsh, deep chested voice, “You would never find me on a horse. My two feet is good enough for me and it should be good enough for you.”
As the six travelers approached the mounted Dejy, a group of four of the horsemen broke away from the others and rode down to meet them. Behind the horsemen they could see a goodly sized herd of horses. True to their reputation, the horses of the Dhrokker steppes were massive animals.
“Who are you?” called the lead horseman as he drew near.
“I am Zurmak,” said Zurmak, taking the initiative and answering first, “Who are you?”
“We are the Bandargi, horsemen,” said the man, not bothering to give his individual name, “What are you doing on our land?”
“Do you know of a place called Darkonirr?” asked Durunak.
At the mention of the Fhokki village the Dejy’s face grew grim.
“If you seek Darkonirr, it is ten miles due east from where you are standing. But I warn you, those villagers are not to be trusted.”
So saying the four horsemen wheeled their large mounts around and began to ride back up to their people.
Leesarel felt like somehow the situation had gotten ahead of her. She had not even managed to say a word, though she was the nominal leader.
“But I wanted to ask them why the villagers were not to be trusted,” she protested to no one in particular.
“I wanted to ask them how much their horses were!” complained Bo.
“You don’t need horses!” growled Durunak as he turned and started heading due east.
Part 1
The horsemen stood upon the rise, if one could call a fifteen foot change in elevation a rise, and watched them approach. The land was very flat here, just south of the great Rytarr woods. It was a rugged land, filled with horses, buffalo, reindeer and the occasional man. It was a land where the wind, when it blew, swept by swiftly. Warm and swift in the summer, cold and swift in the winter. It was a land in which a man could get lost.
Or a woman.
“Maybe they know where to find this village,” said Hulmar to Leesarel. Hulmar was Leesarel’s cousin and as usual, he was very polite to her, even when he thought the situation was her fault.
“It has to be around here someplace,” muttered Durunak, the shaggy looking dwarf who was walking just a short way behind the two elves.
Leesarel tried not to let the dwarf’s surely attitude affect her. The others looked to her as a leader, both because of her age (She was 50 years older then Hulmar and almost a hundred years older than either of the two dwarves. She did not even bother to try and compare her age to that of Bo, their halfling archer or Minlion, her human friend.) and because this excursion had been her idea. She did not feel comfortable as a leader, hated to take the blame for being lost and did not want to look like a failure in the eyes of anyone.
She had no idea what the job they were about to volunteer for entailed, but had hearing through her superiors of a town in need, she had pushed herself forward as a volunteer (along with her friends whom she knew to be on their way to see her.) Nobody had mentioned, either, at the time that there were no roads leading to Darkonirr, the village in question.
“Let’s ask them,” said Leesarel looking at the horsemen with her keen elvish vision, “They are Dejy, nomads who raise horses. Really Big horses.”
“I wonder how much one of their horses cost?” mused Bo.
“Probably more than you have,” said Hulmar.
“I wouldn’t mind a horse,” said Zurmak, Durunak’s cousin, no doubt thinking of the hundreds of miles he had walked over the past month.
“What do you need a horse for,” groused Durunak in his harsh, deep chested voice, “You would never find me on a horse. My two feet is good enough for me and it should be good enough for you.”
As the six travelers approached the mounted Dejy, a group of four of the horsemen broke away from the others and rode down to meet them. Behind the horsemen they could see a goodly sized herd of horses. True to their reputation, the horses of the Dhrokker steppes were massive animals.
“Who are you?” called the lead horseman as he drew near.
“I am Zurmak,” said Zurmak, taking the initiative and answering first, “Who are you?”
“We are the Bandargi, horsemen,” said the man, not bothering to give his individual name, “What are you doing on our land?”
“Do you know of a place called Darkonirr?” asked Durunak.
At the mention of the Fhokki village the Dejy’s face grew grim.
“If you seek Darkonirr, it is ten miles due east from where you are standing. But I warn you, those villagers are not to be trusted.”
So saying the four horsemen wheeled their large mounts around and began to ride back up to their people.
Leesarel felt like somehow the situation had gotten ahead of her. She had not even managed to say a word, though she was the nominal leader.
“But I wanted to ask them why the villagers were not to be trusted,” she protested to no one in particular.
“I wanted to ask them how much their horses were!” complained Bo.
“You don’t need horses!” growled Durunak as he turned and started heading due east.
Wicht
Hero
Thanks Capellan.
There's a chance that I'll start another thread for the encounters. But it won't be for a couple of weeks at least. For one thing, my notes have been very rough this far and need quite a bit of polishing. For another..., well I don't have to tell you that working on two story hours is more timeconsuming then working on one.
There's a chance that I'll start another thread for the encounters. But it won't be for a couple of weeks at least. For one thing, my notes have been very rough this far and need quite a bit of polishing. For another..., well I don't have to tell you that working on two story hours is more timeconsuming then working on one.
Wicht
Hero
Black Waters - Part 2
Darkonirr was a simple hamlet, surrounded by a log fence. It lay near the shores of a small river, really little more than a large stream. A goodly number of sheep wandered the land in and around the village. Mixed in among the sheep were chickens, horses, cows and a few dogs. The smell as one approached the village was similar to that of a barnyard. The people of Darkonirr were obviously of Fhokki descent in the main. Tall and broad shouldered, they towered over the party of travelers as they entered through the gate.
A tall, blond young man with a relatively short beard stepped forward to greet them as they entered into the village. He steered directly for Leesarel. Two other young men followed after him.
“Are you Leesarel?” he inquired in the Merchant tongue to the elf woman.
“I am,” she replied using the same language. She could speak Fhokki but not well.
“Good,” he said enthusiastically, “I am Walimar, Son of Terfdar, one of the village elders. We have been expecting you most eagerly since word came from High Huntress Alentarr that you would be seeking to help us.”
“That is good.”
“Indeed, Indeed, I trust your journey was pleasant?”
“It went well, though tell me, what do you know of the Bandargi? We asked directions from one and he did not seem happy with your village.”
The young man’s cheerful face grew momentarily dark, “I am afraid that the situation between us and the Bandargi is tense at the moment. We have had good relationships with them for many years, but lately they have begun to accuse us of killing some of their horses and in return we have been finding some of our sheep killed. But thankfully for your sakes,” and his face brightened again, “You have not been asked to deal with such trivial matters for us, we have a much graver situation to the south… But I get ahead of myself. Why don’t I show you to the village Inn and there you can rest for an hour or two while the elders gather and prepare to meet you. My father and the other two elders will explain matters to you.”
“That sounds good,” said Leesarel.
“Aye,” growled Durunak, “tell me lad, do you have any suitable weaponsmiths in the village?”
“And horses,” said Bo, “We had thought of looking into buying horses.”
“To be sure,” said Walimar addressing the Shaggy Dwarf first, “We have some fletchers, but as for metal weapon-smiths, no… most of our weapons are used or transported here from outside the village.”
“What about horses?” asked Hulmar.
“We have horses,” said Walimar with a grin, “perhaps one of our men will be willing to part with some of his horses for a price.”
“Now,” said Walimar, “How about the Inn.”
The inn was a clean, one story building with rooms built along its back for guests to stay in. The six travelers each paid a silver coin for the use of one of the rooms in which to sleep for the night and then followed this up with another silver coin for a hot meal. The food, mutton and vegetables, was good and while they ate the companions talked. Durunak was interested in finding the village smithy and seeing what sort of work he did. Hulmar, Zurmak and Bo still talked of the advantages of having mounts in such a desolate area. Leesarel was burning with curiousity about the situation between the Bandargi and the people of Darkonir. Minlion simply ate in silence.
About the time they were done with their meal, Walimar returned to the inn.
“The elders are ready to see you now,” he said cheefully, “We should not keep them waiting. I trust you are all ready?”
*****
The house in which the Elders convened to issue judgements upon the people of Darkonir was a simple one room log building. Inside, against the left hand wall, a large fire blazed, making the whole room swelter with heat. Across the room was a table set up with three seats behind it. Three elderly men sat in the seats. Despite their age, each of the three men was a big man and each appeared hearty and hale. A bison skin decorated the middle floor as a rug but otherwise the room was devoid of decoration. Near the fire stood a fourth man, tall and handsome.
As Walimar escorted the party into the room Leesarel recognized the fourth individual for what he was, a fellow servant of the Huntress. She nodded politely to him and then the party moved to stand in a line near to the table of the elders.
“Greetings good friends,” said the man in the middle rising from his seat, “I am Dresmin, the village blacksmith. On my right is Terfdar and on my left is Shanko. We are the elders of this community and we are glad you have come. Our village priest Ruthdar has asked to be present at this meeting with you.”
“How may we serve you,” asked Leesarel politely but making sure to speak before any of her five companions could speak.
“For some time now,” said Dresmin sitting back down, “We have been experiencing a loss of livestock in some of the areas south of our community. We are one of the few villages to raise sheep in these regions and some of our sheep have been killed by strange monsters. Recently one of our herders claimed to have seen a small dragon flying over the area. This fits in with the fact that some of the remains we have found have been burned, almost melted. We want you to kill the dragon for us.”
There was a moment of palpable silence. Durunak’s eyes bugged open and he opened his mouth as if trying to speak. The color slowly drained from Leesarel’s face as she contemplated facing a savage dragon with her group of untested warriors.
Dresmin saw the look of shock on their faces. He opened his mouth to speak but Durunak finally managed to get the words out.
“You want us to fight a dragon for you?” he sputtered through his shaggy beard, his voice slightly higher than normal.
“Oh, no, no, no… well yes,” said Dresmin, “But it’s a small dragon, very small. And we are willing to pay you 500 gold coins, almost all that we could raise.”
“A small dragon?” said Hulmar, “Just how small?” Hulmar still looked skeptical, as did Leesarel and Durunak. At the mention of the money however Bo, Zurmak and Minlion had all smiled.
“A few feet long perhaps, not very big at all,” answered Terfdar, speaking for the first time, “We would do it… but we are not really many of us warriors you see. A few of us have some training but we figured this was a job better handled by… those who weren’t from Darkonir."
“Another of our shepherds tried to locate it,” said Dresmin, “and he claims to have seen it landing and swimming in a body of water about ten miles south of the village.”
Ruthdar the priest interjected at this point, “The witness is very reliable and he was certain it could not have been more than about three or so feet in length. The lake is not hard to find either, I can arrange for a guide to take you there.”
“Will you do this for us?” asked Dresmin, “We have lost many animals and are afraid soon we may lose some people to this monster.”
Leesarel bit her lip and looked over at Durunak. Durunak nodded at her after a moment. She looked at Hulmar.
“Why not,” said Hulmar in the High Elf tongue with a resigned air.
“Sure,” said Zurmak.
“I will do it,” said Bo. Minlion nodded his agreement to the proposition.
“Okay then,” said Leesarel to the three elders, “we will do it.”
“Good,” said Dresmin and the three elders all smiled with relief, “If there is anything we can do to help you let us know.”
“Can you help us out with some supplies,” said Durunak.
“I am sure that some of our local merchants would be eager to sell you what you need,” said Dresmin with a big toothy smile.
“What can you tell me about the Dargonir,” said Leesarel, eager to find out more about the local gossip.
Darkonirr was a simple hamlet, surrounded by a log fence. It lay near the shores of a small river, really little more than a large stream. A goodly number of sheep wandered the land in and around the village. Mixed in among the sheep were chickens, horses, cows and a few dogs. The smell as one approached the village was similar to that of a barnyard. The people of Darkonirr were obviously of Fhokki descent in the main. Tall and broad shouldered, they towered over the party of travelers as they entered through the gate.
A tall, blond young man with a relatively short beard stepped forward to greet them as they entered into the village. He steered directly for Leesarel. Two other young men followed after him.
“Are you Leesarel?” he inquired in the Merchant tongue to the elf woman.
“I am,” she replied using the same language. She could speak Fhokki but not well.
“Good,” he said enthusiastically, “I am Walimar, Son of Terfdar, one of the village elders. We have been expecting you most eagerly since word came from High Huntress Alentarr that you would be seeking to help us.”
“That is good.”
“Indeed, Indeed, I trust your journey was pleasant?”
“It went well, though tell me, what do you know of the Bandargi? We asked directions from one and he did not seem happy with your village.”
The young man’s cheerful face grew momentarily dark, “I am afraid that the situation between us and the Bandargi is tense at the moment. We have had good relationships with them for many years, but lately they have begun to accuse us of killing some of their horses and in return we have been finding some of our sheep killed. But thankfully for your sakes,” and his face brightened again, “You have not been asked to deal with such trivial matters for us, we have a much graver situation to the south… But I get ahead of myself. Why don’t I show you to the village Inn and there you can rest for an hour or two while the elders gather and prepare to meet you. My father and the other two elders will explain matters to you.”
“That sounds good,” said Leesarel.
“Aye,” growled Durunak, “tell me lad, do you have any suitable weaponsmiths in the village?”
“And horses,” said Bo, “We had thought of looking into buying horses.”
“To be sure,” said Walimar addressing the Shaggy Dwarf first, “We have some fletchers, but as for metal weapon-smiths, no… most of our weapons are used or transported here from outside the village.”
“What about horses?” asked Hulmar.
“We have horses,” said Walimar with a grin, “perhaps one of our men will be willing to part with some of his horses for a price.”
“Now,” said Walimar, “How about the Inn.”
The inn was a clean, one story building with rooms built along its back for guests to stay in. The six travelers each paid a silver coin for the use of one of the rooms in which to sleep for the night and then followed this up with another silver coin for a hot meal. The food, mutton and vegetables, was good and while they ate the companions talked. Durunak was interested in finding the village smithy and seeing what sort of work he did. Hulmar, Zurmak and Bo still talked of the advantages of having mounts in such a desolate area. Leesarel was burning with curiousity about the situation between the Bandargi and the people of Darkonir. Minlion simply ate in silence.
About the time they were done with their meal, Walimar returned to the inn.
“The elders are ready to see you now,” he said cheefully, “We should not keep them waiting. I trust you are all ready?”
*****
The house in which the Elders convened to issue judgements upon the people of Darkonir was a simple one room log building. Inside, against the left hand wall, a large fire blazed, making the whole room swelter with heat. Across the room was a table set up with three seats behind it. Three elderly men sat in the seats. Despite their age, each of the three men was a big man and each appeared hearty and hale. A bison skin decorated the middle floor as a rug but otherwise the room was devoid of decoration. Near the fire stood a fourth man, tall and handsome.
As Walimar escorted the party into the room Leesarel recognized the fourth individual for what he was, a fellow servant of the Huntress. She nodded politely to him and then the party moved to stand in a line near to the table of the elders.
“Greetings good friends,” said the man in the middle rising from his seat, “I am Dresmin, the village blacksmith. On my right is Terfdar and on my left is Shanko. We are the elders of this community and we are glad you have come. Our village priest Ruthdar has asked to be present at this meeting with you.”
“How may we serve you,” asked Leesarel politely but making sure to speak before any of her five companions could speak.
“For some time now,” said Dresmin sitting back down, “We have been experiencing a loss of livestock in some of the areas south of our community. We are one of the few villages to raise sheep in these regions and some of our sheep have been killed by strange monsters. Recently one of our herders claimed to have seen a small dragon flying over the area. This fits in with the fact that some of the remains we have found have been burned, almost melted. We want you to kill the dragon for us.”
There was a moment of palpable silence. Durunak’s eyes bugged open and he opened his mouth as if trying to speak. The color slowly drained from Leesarel’s face as she contemplated facing a savage dragon with her group of untested warriors.
Dresmin saw the look of shock on their faces. He opened his mouth to speak but Durunak finally managed to get the words out.
“You want us to fight a dragon for you?” he sputtered through his shaggy beard, his voice slightly higher than normal.
“Oh, no, no, no… well yes,” said Dresmin, “But it’s a small dragon, very small. And we are willing to pay you 500 gold coins, almost all that we could raise.”
“A small dragon?” said Hulmar, “Just how small?” Hulmar still looked skeptical, as did Leesarel and Durunak. At the mention of the money however Bo, Zurmak and Minlion had all smiled.
“A few feet long perhaps, not very big at all,” answered Terfdar, speaking for the first time, “We would do it… but we are not really many of us warriors you see. A few of us have some training but we figured this was a job better handled by… those who weren’t from Darkonir."
“Another of our shepherds tried to locate it,” said Dresmin, “and he claims to have seen it landing and swimming in a body of water about ten miles south of the village.”
Ruthdar the priest interjected at this point, “The witness is very reliable and he was certain it could not have been more than about three or so feet in length. The lake is not hard to find either, I can arrange for a guide to take you there.”
“Will you do this for us?” asked Dresmin, “We have lost many animals and are afraid soon we may lose some people to this monster.”
Leesarel bit her lip and looked over at Durunak. Durunak nodded at her after a moment. She looked at Hulmar.
“Why not,” said Hulmar in the High Elf tongue with a resigned air.
“Sure,” said Zurmak.
“I will do it,” said Bo. Minlion nodded his agreement to the proposition.
“Okay then,” said Leesarel to the three elders, “we will do it.”
“Good,” said Dresmin and the three elders all smiled with relief, “If there is anything we can do to help you let us know.”
“Can you help us out with some supplies,” said Durunak.
“I am sure that some of our local merchants would be eager to sell you what you need,” said Dresmin with a big toothy smile.
“What can you tell me about the Dargonir,” said Leesarel, eager to find out more about the local gossip.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
I think I need something more to read, so I'll try this story out.
Wicht
Hero
Black Waters – Part 3
The next morning found the six companions standing on a small hill looking down upon a large body of black water. Their guide, a young lad of about fifteen winters excused himself and hurried away to the north, back to Darkonirr. The wind blew around them but it was warmer than it had been, the weather seemed to have turned, one last gasp at warmness. Overhead the sky was grey.
There was little sign of life across the plains as they surveyed the region. Below them the wind moved the water a little if any and its flat surface easily mirrored the grey sky. The only feature of any interest that they could see was the small island about a mile away, situated in the middle of the lake. The lake appeared to be about two miles across.
Following their meeting with the elders the previous afternoon, they had spent the rest of the day in relative futility and were therefore eager come the dawn to be out and about being useful. Hulmar, Bo, and Zurmak had looked into the subject of horses but had found the cost prohibitive for their purposes. Leesarel had asked around about the Bendargi horsemen but had found out nothing she had not already been told – namely the Darkonirr villagers felt the Bendargi were killing some of their sheep and oxen and the Bendargi kept accussing the people of Darkonirr of killing horses. All told they had gone to bed nervous and frustrated. Perhaps it was the unknown factor of the dragon that was making them somewhat highstrung.
“If there is a dragon,” grumbled Durunak with his deep voice as they surveyed the water.
“I never heard of a dragon living in a lake,” said Hulmar, though their guide had told them that the witness claimed to have seen the monster flying in and out of the still surface of the lake.
“It could be something that just looks like a dragon,” agreed Leesarel, “What we need is a plan.”
Durunak plopped himself on the ground and looked at the water.
“Well, lets first make a camp,” suggested Hulmar.
“Why would we do that,” groused Durunak shaking his shaggy head at the elf. “The towns only a three hour walk, we can always just head back there.”
They stood and stared a while longer at the calm, dark waters of the lake.
“I am not sure I believe there are any dragons here,” said Leesarel, “I wonder what he did see?”
“If it is or if it isn’t a dragon we need to draw it out of the water,” said Hulmar, “How are we going to do that.”
“Throw rocks in the lake,” said Durunak.
“Throw rocks?”
“Do you got a better idea?” growled the dwarf.
“No…”
“Then I am going to throw rocks in the lake.”
With a smile Bo chipped in, “I want to throw rocks in the lake too.”
Zurmak added, “I have always wanted to learn to skip rocks,” and then smiling he moved to follow Bo and Durunak who were already heading down to the lake. Leesarel frowned. It didn’t exactly seem like what she had wanted when she had said that they needed a plan. She pulled out her bow and moved to follow the two dwarfs and the halfling. Minlion and Hulmar stood uncertainly for a moment and then moved to follow the others down the hill to the lake shore.
Durunak stopped about thirty feet from the Lake.
"I think this is close enough," he said and he picked up a rock and threw it in the water. It landed with a loud plop and little ripples flowed out from the impact.
“Ah, lets get closer,” said Zurmak walking past Durunak.
“You needed a bigger rock,” said Bo also moving past Durunak.
“No I didn’t,” huffed Durunak to the halfling.
Bo found a suitable rock about the size of his head and hefting it up, the small halfling staggered over to the lake edge and heaved it in. SHLOP! Water shot up into the air and cascaded back into the lake creating many more small ripples. The water was black and dirty and filled with vegetation. Even at the edge of the lake it was hard to see to the bottom.
“I can do better than that,” laughed Zurmak and walking down to the water with his dwarven war ax firmly in one hand he began to use it to splash the water.
“Uuhh,” said Leesarel coming up behind Durunak, who was watching his cousin and laughing “I am not sure…”
But what elf was unsure of remained unsaid for at that moment a small black wing shape launched itself out of the water and flew straight at Zurmak.
It was clearly a dragon, albeit only about four feet long from head to tail. What Zurmak saw was the teeth though as the small mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and two over sized fangs clambed down hard on his arm.
The companions froze for a fraction of a second, all except Hulmar who, being some distance back with Minlion, immediately began to run towards the lake, drawing an arrow as he ran. Durunak reacted with panic, swinging his ax like a club into the scaly black body that was writhing around his arm, teeth clamped down. The whip like tail and the large wings flew everywhere and the water splashed violently. The dragon released its hold as the ax struck it but only out of anger. It opened its mouth and a stream of greenish liquid flew out from between its jaws.
Zurmak threw himself sideways into the water trying to avoid the spray, but he was too slow and the greenish stream of liquid struck his armor. Immediately the armor began to sizzle and the leather curled. The dragon at the same instance it spit out the acid used Zurmak’s body as a launching pad and flung itself back and into the water. It broke the surface with a neat splash and promptly disappeared into the lake.
“Back!” shouted Durunak, “Back from the Water!”
The next morning found the six companions standing on a small hill looking down upon a large body of black water. Their guide, a young lad of about fifteen winters excused himself and hurried away to the north, back to Darkonirr. The wind blew around them but it was warmer than it had been, the weather seemed to have turned, one last gasp at warmness. Overhead the sky was grey.
There was little sign of life across the plains as they surveyed the region. Below them the wind moved the water a little if any and its flat surface easily mirrored the grey sky. The only feature of any interest that they could see was the small island about a mile away, situated in the middle of the lake. The lake appeared to be about two miles across.
Following their meeting with the elders the previous afternoon, they had spent the rest of the day in relative futility and were therefore eager come the dawn to be out and about being useful. Hulmar, Bo, and Zurmak had looked into the subject of horses but had found the cost prohibitive for their purposes. Leesarel had asked around about the Bendargi horsemen but had found out nothing she had not already been told – namely the Darkonirr villagers felt the Bendargi were killing some of their sheep and oxen and the Bendargi kept accussing the people of Darkonirr of killing horses. All told they had gone to bed nervous and frustrated. Perhaps it was the unknown factor of the dragon that was making them somewhat highstrung.
“If there is a dragon,” grumbled Durunak with his deep voice as they surveyed the water.
“I never heard of a dragon living in a lake,” said Hulmar, though their guide had told them that the witness claimed to have seen the monster flying in and out of the still surface of the lake.
“It could be something that just looks like a dragon,” agreed Leesarel, “What we need is a plan.”
Durunak plopped himself on the ground and looked at the water.
“Well, lets first make a camp,” suggested Hulmar.
“Why would we do that,” groused Durunak shaking his shaggy head at the elf. “The towns only a three hour walk, we can always just head back there.”
They stood and stared a while longer at the calm, dark waters of the lake.
“I am not sure I believe there are any dragons here,” said Leesarel, “I wonder what he did see?”
“If it is or if it isn’t a dragon we need to draw it out of the water,” said Hulmar, “How are we going to do that.”
“Throw rocks in the lake,” said Durunak.
“Throw rocks?”
“Do you got a better idea?” growled the dwarf.
“No…”
“Then I am going to throw rocks in the lake.”
With a smile Bo chipped in, “I want to throw rocks in the lake too.”
Zurmak added, “I have always wanted to learn to skip rocks,” and then smiling he moved to follow Bo and Durunak who were already heading down to the lake. Leesarel frowned. It didn’t exactly seem like what she had wanted when she had said that they needed a plan. She pulled out her bow and moved to follow the two dwarfs and the halfling. Minlion and Hulmar stood uncertainly for a moment and then moved to follow the others down the hill to the lake shore.
Durunak stopped about thirty feet from the Lake.
"I think this is close enough," he said and he picked up a rock and threw it in the water. It landed with a loud plop and little ripples flowed out from the impact.
“Ah, lets get closer,” said Zurmak walking past Durunak.
“You needed a bigger rock,” said Bo also moving past Durunak.
“No I didn’t,” huffed Durunak to the halfling.
Bo found a suitable rock about the size of his head and hefting it up, the small halfling staggered over to the lake edge and heaved it in. SHLOP! Water shot up into the air and cascaded back into the lake creating many more small ripples. The water was black and dirty and filled with vegetation. Even at the edge of the lake it was hard to see to the bottom.
“I can do better than that,” laughed Zurmak and walking down to the water with his dwarven war ax firmly in one hand he began to use it to splash the water.
“Uuhh,” said Leesarel coming up behind Durunak, who was watching his cousin and laughing “I am not sure…”
But what elf was unsure of remained unsaid for at that moment a small black wing shape launched itself out of the water and flew straight at Zurmak.
It was clearly a dragon, albeit only about four feet long from head to tail. What Zurmak saw was the teeth though as the small mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and two over sized fangs clambed down hard on his arm.
The companions froze for a fraction of a second, all except Hulmar who, being some distance back with Minlion, immediately began to run towards the lake, drawing an arrow as he ran. Durunak reacted with panic, swinging his ax like a club into the scaly black body that was writhing around his arm, teeth clamped down. The whip like tail and the large wings flew everywhere and the water splashed violently. The dragon released its hold as the ax struck it but only out of anger. It opened its mouth and a stream of greenish liquid flew out from between its jaws.
Zurmak threw himself sideways into the water trying to avoid the spray, but he was too slow and the greenish stream of liquid struck his armor. Immediately the armor began to sizzle and the leather curled. The dragon at the same instance it spit out the acid used Zurmak’s body as a launching pad and flung itself back and into the water. It broke the surface with a neat splash and promptly disappeared into the lake.
“Back!” shouted Durunak, “Back from the Water!”
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