Tribulations of a Dragon

Standing by the window of his office, Wreyn watched the smoke covering the landscape south of his town as doubts about the situation crept into his heart. With another sip of his wine, he sought insight from a friend.

“Neithro… Was my trust in the Dragon misplaced? Plainshold will be no more by day’s end, and no doubt our winter will be harsh having taken in this many refugees. Every thought on how to solve the coming hunger crisis leads nowhere…”

“We both know what Lord Awirtatin was doing in that town of his. The winter will be harsh, but his people, the people of Plainshold, would have starved regardless. You have given them a fighting chance. Don’t be a whiny little prick just because things didn’t move in accordance with your schemes.”

Having his friend speak so plainly elicited a chuckle from the old mage. A welcome smile graced his lips as he took another sip. These were exciting times for his ancient heart to grapple with. Reminiscing about how he had intended for all of this to unfold, he found the current situation entirely absurd.

The schemes Wreyn had been planning for decades would force out the Guild and their barbaric ways, allowing him to build a standing military to take their place. Which would yield greater discipline among the ranks of the defensive force. The start of which was the Ignis Corps, a group of young mage-potentials he had taken into his care and trained to be especially skilled in pyromancy.

The Ignis Corps had continuously borne fruit, as his domain had not had an undead rising since the corps' inauguration.

Although Wreyn had one threat contained, that still left much of the untamed lands and the beasts within to contend with. For that, he needed a standing military, fighters willing to follow his command and train under his philosophies. The undomesticated nature of the Guild’s members left many suffering in their wake. Many who he had drawn to his town to gain sympathy for his cause.

Much to his, and many of his peers’, chagrin, the Guild had the ear of King Alhepheus, the seventh of his line. And with that power, they created a reliance on the adventurers to deal with threats, as any lord raising military might would be assumed to have plans of usurping the King. It was a work in progress started centuries ago by the Traveler who had created the Guild.

Although Wreyn’s plans had begun as a peaceful endeavor to unify the lords of the west, the death of his daughter, Myrna, three years past, had driven him to look for more direct approaches. She had been taken by a group of kobolds to be used for their grotesqueries, but when he had recovered her body after the adventurers had killed the kobolds, it was neither claw marks nor bite that had dealt the killing blow.

As the adventurers returned from their mission, they reported no survivors, but Wreyn could not abandon his daughter to rot in such a vile place. Calling on an old friend, he sought out the beasts’ den, hoping to lay her to rest alongside her mother.

The expedition took days of searching caves at the foot of the mountain, and when they finally found success, Wreyn broke. The body of his daughter had been mangled, the evidence of torture and worse painting a clear picture of what had transpired.

This was the work of monsters, not beasts.

Wreyn and his old friend continued their gruesome work of retrieving his daughter, loading her remains onto a stretcher for the two to carry back home. Though he worked with a stoic face, Wreyn felt himself shatter as the task and the journey back took most of the final night in the wilderness.

Returning to Oakhold in the early hours of the day, he moved through town uninterrupted as the sheer force of his rage and sorrow caused magic to cackle and snap around him, threatening any who would dare to come close.

For the first time in his life, he wished he knew the forbidden arts of Necromancy just for the chance to hear her voice once more.

Dragging the stretcher, he had not noticed the disappearance of his friend, as only two thoughts occupied his mind: laying Myrna to rest and vengeance.

With his aging body, he struggled onward to reach the family crypt even as his knees threatened to buckle. He had to give her this, at least, now that he had failed to protect her not only from the beasts of the wilds, but also from the monsters meant to save her.

The solemn affair was dealt with little fanfare, a one-person funeral for the snuffed-out light and what wondrous things she might have wrought. Left behind was her daughter, his granddaughter, Emily. The moment she snuck into his thoughts, his stoic mask shattered. Though he had raised Myrna, he was at a loss for how to proceed from here.

Of one thing he was certain, she would become more powerful than he ever was. Nobody would be able to hold a candle to her power once he had finished training her, teaching her all that he knew. With his mind reeling, fixated on the future as he feared the present, he returned home as the pain of realization hit him. He had yet to tell Emily.

The day was still young, but it promised to be no brighter than the dark caves inhabited by the kobolds.

Having chosen the coward’s way, he had made the choice to simply tell Emily that her mother had business elsewhere, a disappearance yielding the hope of return one day, a fanciful lie to spare the young girl’s heart as it crushed his own.

No more than three bells later, a knock came at his door. The guards had brought dire news of the death of his friend. Vidar the Hunter had become Vidar the Butcher, laying waste to the Guild Hall, slaughtering as many adventurers as he could before they could bring him down.

Focusing his mind on the sorrow, he hid away the satisfaction of hearing about the grisly event as the guardsman informed the lord of as many details as he could.

A mask had to be worn, Wreyn could not outright approve of Vidar’s actions, but he also refused to let those same actions be forgotten. With a decision made, Wreyn commanded a small group of guards to collect the body of this scoundrel and follow him on an expedition to the cursed lake of the west.

Leaving his town behind on grim business once more, Wreyn and his battalion set out for the west, traveling together as day turned to night, reaching the lake by the fourth day as threats from the wild had to be avoided.

In a display of composed authority, he commanded a pit to be dug on the far side of the lake by the roots of a Sokofoan tree, leaving the body of the butcher to be consumed by the wilds. By the customs decreed by their King, a wild funeral was barbaric and ungodly, something a lesser species than the blessed Humans might do.

Known only to Wreyn, Vidar would have celebrated this serene lake becoming his final resting place. Tales and rumors of it being cursed were not something Wreyn concerned himself with as he took in the scenery, a mighty tree standing as his tombstone and the soil of the forest meeting the lake to become his casket.

Though he knew that Vidar would approve, Wreyn couldn’t fight back the regret as he could not perform the traditional funeral rites in the presence of witnesses who would easily discern his true intentions for this journey. With a silent promise to return, Wreyn and his entourage prepared for their journey back to Oakhold.

The snap of fingers in front of his face brought Wreyn back to the present, Captain Neithro standing with an annoyed scowl.

“Want me to fetch your balls, my lord? Perhaps then you would quit your pathetic sulking and take action to rectify this situation. You know what power Kira holds, and so far, she is on our side. Jeopardizing that at this junction would only prove how utterly foolish you can be.”

“Be quiet, Neithro…”

Though he was in no mood for his friend’s oddities, there was a certain truth to his words. Kira’s sudden appearance had caused an upheaval of a magnitude he could not have predicted. Though Dragons were rare, most encounters forgotten in the annals of history, the texts still spoke of the destruction wrought by the fearsome beasts.

He once again wished he had access to the Clergy of Merciferus’ libraries. It was common knowledge that they had the complete index of this world’s creatures. Known for their God’s obsessive nature and downright fanatical tendency to collect information on the beasts of the world, Merciferus was known for being liberal with her blessings for those in the service of collecting information or doing her bidding.

With his mind refocused on the peculiarity that was Kira, he wondered how he might apply her might in service of his own goals. Thoughts of bribery, binding, or blackmail drifted through his mind, but he was quick to throw them aside, considering their obvious shortcomings.

Should he manage to bind her, he would either have to rely on someone of a dubious nature or risk performing the rituals himself. And both situations would simply leave a long-lived creature with a thirst for vengeance.

Blackmail would be equally foolish. A Dragon would no doubt willingly give up its treasure if it meant the death of the moron trying to steal from it. Kira had already shown a minor inclination toward this, proving that as gentle as she could be, she was to be feared.

And finally, the only remotely functional option of the three is bribery. If she were susceptible to bribery, no doubt someone willing to tax their peasants more, someone richer, could usurp any illusion of control he might hold.

These thoughts ringing in his mind kept bringing him back to one option: support. He would support her, and in turn, she would support him.

“Wreyn, if you’re thinking about binding her again, let me know so I can desert my post before she shows up to prove how foolish that would be. Consider how restricted you would be if a child bound your hands in twine and started barking orders at you.”

“I need more wine…”

He had spent the years since the death of his daughter making the town more inhospitable to adventurers, adding taxes to their orders and restricting what they could buy. None of his efforts had been as successful in driving away their sorry lot as the day Kira had visited. A Dragon showing up on your doorstep wanting a tour of your city…

The entire situation had been absurd, but in a moment of madness, Wreyn had accepted, wanting to know more about this new, curious creature. How it had gone was entirely outside the scope of any spontaneous plans Wreyn had created, he hadn’t considered how foolish those vile creatures would be inside the calm walls of his town.

The citizens had been shocked to witness the gruesome treatment of the adventurers, but Oakhold was built on a simmering animosity towards the guild, allowing many to accept the story of a peaceful beast merely defending itself as adventurer parts were strewn across the streets. Yet another absurdity, but a welcome one.

In the wake of Kira’s treatment of those who would seek to harm her, an exodus was triggered, leading to most adventurers heading back to Plainshold and Arrenfret, leaving Oakhold vulnerable. Though that wouldn’t matter much, as most dangerous beasts had receded into the forests.

The impact of her presence was undeniable, and as the Guild’s presence dwindled, the merchants’ presence increased. Fear of ruffians stealing their goods or injuries incurred defending said goods fell to almost nonexistence. Crime fell to the point of guards seeking other employment out of boredom.

No, his course was set. Kira was an ally, not a tool. She had to be helped to establish her own realm within this region, and he would continue to help her do so. The trade initiative had sparked quite some interest, and to his surprise, they had imported Dragon’s Gold from Tuiran.

He would have to increase his own import of simple metals to increase Tuiran’s production of this precious alloy. Though it was known from traveler histories that tin, copper, and other metals could meld together to create stronger metals, the process in this world was different, leading to many giving up.

Dragon’s Gold by itself would rival iron weapons, scratching at the capabilities of common steel, but it took to enhancements as if it were forged in magic. And given Tuiran’s guards having equipment of copper being exchanged for equipment of Dragon’s Gold, it was likely that the metal alloy was forged in magic.

A chuckle left Wreyn’s lips as his thoughts drifted to Kira doing something she considered entirely mundane, resulting in shaking up the world of trade for years to come.

“What’s so funny, Wreyn?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. My thoughts are merely preoccupied with how utterly absurd this cycle has been.”

Emptying his goblet, he continued to stare out of the window, the plume of smoke from Plainshold turning the skies from day to night. How could one being allow itself to be pushed around and yelled at by a once-enemy, playing with children with no risk of injury to the vulnerable babes, also be capable of razing a town in less than a day? The idea haunted him, fear crept in as thoughts of that fearsome power being turned on Oakhold flooded his mind.

“I could use some more wine…”

Neithro sat down in the guest chair and slammed his boots onto the ornate desk of his lord. Leaning back, he spoke his mind as was their tradition.

“She was never someone to be controlled, Wreyn. The only option was guidance, and that is still an option. You know what they did in that town, and in less than a week, Kira has not only taken out your rival, she has also taken away their source of power, and now their pitiful little kingdom lies in ruins.”

Knowing that his friend spoke the truth, Wreyn couldn’t argue against it. The carefully crafted plans of diplomacy and expansion had been thrown out in favor of pure brute force. Though the blow of how much of his effort had been wasted did sting.

“Neithro, do you know how many of our people made it out?”

“Most. I sent word as soon as you made the Guild’s intentions known to Kira, so most of our people left with the civilians. If anything, this might be your fault if you think about it.”

Swirling the goblet of wine in his hand, he mulled over Neithro’s words, finding himself growing frustrated as his friend once again had a point... Deciding not to overreact, he threw the goblet at Neithro’s head. As the goblet impacted a magical barrier, Wreyn cursed as Neithro hadn’t even flinched, such was the absolute trust his friend had in the barriers on which the Captain’s life so often relied.

Taking a swig from the bottle on his desk, Wreyn grabbed his coat and started moving toward the door. It was time for him to ride out to meet the next wave of refugees from Plainshold. Though this time, he might turn them away, as there was no doubt in his mind that these would be the adventurers who refused to abandon their foolish mission.

Ruminations of what Kira might do if she found him harboring those who set out to hurt her and those under her protection sent chills down his spine. The Dragons of old were unpredictable in the best of cases, but added to that was the possibility that Kira might be a Traveler. It frightened him to know that the old texts could only be trusted to a degree, as whatever sensibilities of her old world might influence her, adding yet another unknown to the horrifying beast.

Neithro had begun retelling the tale of how she and he had left to hunt the beast of the north, which only served to add to Wreyn’s worries. Neithro had found the entire thing amusing, but that would just be another marker indicating the dangers of involving oneself with a Dragon. Neithro was a man of many virtues and accolades, but beneath that exterior slept a dangerous threat. One Wreyn had seen a glimpse of during the retelling.

“Wreyn, you worry far too much. Kira has proven that she takes action in response to what others do. Lord Awirtatin died because he issued the culling mission, he should have wavered when rumors of a Dragon spread. The cleric’s team died because they took the culling mission, they should have turned back when they found your message. Now Plainshold burns because the adventurers chose to continue down the path of the moron, and they were given a taste of destruction they couldn’t fight. What they all had in common was a clear opportunity to turn back, and every one of them chose not to.”

With a steady pace, the two men continued down the hallway, a clear goal in mind. Mounts would be required as they headed for their goal of meeting up with the horde of adventurers heading their way.

Along their journey, they met bowed heads and gentle smiles from Lord Wreyn’s staff, the people working for the Grand Mage were as well taken care of as any within his domain. Reverence clear in their eyes as gazes found the old man.

Wherever he went, a path was cleared and respect was shown, a stark contrast to his experiences with the cocky Captain of the Guard who so often disrespected him and disobeyed his orders. Captain Neithro was famously a wily and cunning man, with an exceptional talent for knowing when to push a subject and when to leave it be.

With their storied history in mind, Wreyn found his doubt regarding Kira becoming doubts about himself. What Neithro had said had a certain clang of truth, though that did not mean he would recognize the signs of doom when they showed up for him, just as those defeated by the terrifying beast hadn’t recognized the signs given to them.

“Wreyn, you’re worrying far too much. Your initiatives have begun bringing prosperity to the goblin town, you acted swiftly in her defense, wasted though it was. To think you put all that effort into fortifying Tuiran only for Kira to leave and obliterate the enemy force. It’s almost enough to bring a tear of pride to my eye.”

As Wreyn watched his trusted friend laugh at his efforts, a calm settled in his heart. He had indeed done much to aid this new ally, and more than she would know. Though even with his full weight placed behind this alliance, he could not stop the days of worry. Wreyn was far too accustomed to being the most powerful person in the room, but that would soon no longer be true.

“Oh, Wreyn, I guess you should know, I gave Raya a Link Ring, so that she may tell me of any issues. And she informed me that after Kira woke up, she had grown to close in on four murak (12.5 ft). Use that fancy education of yours to figure out how much extra mass and power that is.”

Brought to a halt by this information, Wreyn found himself wanting to laugh. At least that explained how she was able to conquer Plainshold with such ease. Though giving a Link Ring was unusual. It allowed for direct mind communication for distances reaching up to three days' travel by horse, though it did not have the benefit of a comprehension spell attached.

“Why must you do this, Neithro?! I had finally calmed down, and now I won’t be able to control my excitement or my fear! I should pray to the gods so that they may curse you to an eternity of worry!”

It was exciting, though. The old scholar had an opportunity to witness the growth of a Dragon, expedited so that he might see it before his death by old age. His hunger for knowledge growled at the prospect of knowing deep, intimate details of the Dragon species that none before him had known.

“Neithro, where are we?”

Looking around, Wreyn found himself disoriented, not immediately recognizing where they had gone.

“You seemed distracted, so I took the opportunity to get you some exercise when I noticed you just kept following me. You will need to take better care of yourself if you want any hope of seeing Emily reach adulthood.”

“Where’s my wine? I’m sure I had a bottle.”

“I gave it to a young man passing by.”

“Neithro, what is your relationship with that young goblin? Word has begun to spread that she has become your favored.”

A hearty laugh escaped the captain of the guard as he prepared to explain.

“I’m not about to fuck her, you creep. She reminds me of my daughter, Abigail, and getting to know Raya has stirred up forgotten feelings. And you should know that when things settle down here, I’ll be traveling south to meet up with her and Victoria. Or perhaps I should send word for them to visit us.”

Ice crept into his heart, freezing Wreyn solid at the prospect of the devilish woman, Victoria, visiting and meeting Kira. How Neithro survived that beastly woman was a mystery he did not want to solve.

“I humbly request that you do not invite that woman to come here.”

Victoria Crushmaul, Crushmaul the Destroyer, Crushmaul the Berserker, Breaker of Death. She stood as Commander of Rotguard, holding back the tides of Undeath breaking upon the walls of life. Famous for her keen mind, powerful body, and undaunted spirit, though she had many accolades, it was common knowledge that wherever she went, she left a trail of blood and broken bones.

“Did I tell you about our first night together, Wreyn? She broke four of my ribs, my right arm, and gave me a concussion. I ended up in the healer’s tent for two days. What a woman…”

One of Wreyn’s hypotheses for how Neithro had become so skilled with barrier and support magic was the captain's and Victoria’s lovemaking, though that was an avenue he was unwilling to explore. As he watched the usually composed captain’s giddy smile, he couldn’t help but feel envious.

As he pushed that subject aside, the smell of manure became apparent. The stables were nearby, and the two men would have to focus on the upcoming task of what to do with the incoming wave of refugees. Considerations had been made, but mercilessness kept winning.

Thoughts of giving the group supplies to reach Arrenfret were considered, but with the civilians from Plainshold, Wreyn’s town did not have enough to spare.

Giving them sanctuary wouldn’t be an option in case it angered Kira, and even if it did not, the risk of one of these buffoons attacking her was too great.

Turning them away without help was simply the only choice he felt he had. Though he also knew that, without a doubt, some of them would turn to banditry, that was something he would have to deal with in the future.

With the aid of a few stable hands, Wreyn and Neithro soon found themselves ready to head out.

Riding side by side, Wreyn and Neithro readied themselves for the potential of combat should any of the adventurers decide to take it upon themselves to retaliate for the lack of help. Even as his hatred for the Guild seethed, he found himself pitying those who sought to better the world but ended up caught in the cruelty of the organization.

It was undeniable that many adventurers had joined the Guild as hopeful young men and women, with the goal of protecting the lands and earning a few coins in doing so, though it was equally undeniable that such an offer would also attract those who hungered for power but found themselves unable to rise in the ranks of the Kingdom’s military or the titles given by nobles.

Neithro had often described it as a clusterfuck of incompetence and arrogance. A crude description, but not ill-fitting.

Riding on, the two men saw a large group of people ahead, far sooner than they should have, which put them on edge.

“You think those are the adventurers? To have come this far already, they must have deserted almost as soon as Kira launched her first attack on the city.”

Wreyn found himself hoping it was indeed the adventurers. Though he would have liked to know most of those foolish enough to stand their ground in Plainshold had fallen, the aftermath would have required a significant effort on his part. No doubt the ambient magic in the town would become saturated, allowing the formation of those damnable Undead Originators, but if most had deserted, then that risk would have been cut down to barely anything.

Closing in on the massive group, Wreyn felt his nerves growing tense, with thoughts of this turning to violence at the forefront of his mind.

The group’s marching stopped as Wreyn approached, Neithro standing at the ready with his defensive magic.

“Lord Wreyn! Plainshold has fallen to a powerful beast, and we need refuge until we can alert the Guild!”

“I advised you to abandon this folly, and you disregarded my warnings. I advised you to stand down so as not to anger the Dragon, and yet again you disregarded my wisdom! And now you ask for sanctuary when the threat still looms above your heads? Would you see Oakhold burn as well as payment for your utterly idiotic, profoundly stupid, AND FUCKING LAUGHABLE attempt to subdue something you do not understand?!”

Having lost his composure, Wreyn unleashed a torrent of profanity at the adventurers as Neithro watched on with a smile. It was no doubt amusing to the captain to watch his kind and excitable Lord lose it to wrath. A wrath he had carried for far too long. But it became clear to Neithro that he would have to step in and cut his own amusement short.

“Lord Wreyn, look to the skies over the ruins of Plainshold.”

After a few attempts to reach the old man, they both saw the shadow approaching. Soaring on dark wings, the fearsome beast approached with terrifying speed. One by one, the adventurers turned to see what had silenced the furious lord, and what they saw made them feel as if a demon had created a veil of frost as their blood turned to ice.

A mighty roar could be heard, the adventurers quick to get into combat positions, dividing themselves into the remaining teams. They stood prepared to defend themselves, but the stench of cowardice covered their location. They held ranks not because of bravery, but because they couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Stand down, you utter fools! If you couldn’t defeat that Dragon with cover and walls, why would you be able to in an open area where it has the advantage?!”

A few turned to face the lord, and as his words rang through the ranks, more and more lowered their weapons, their only hope being that they could trust the lord to know what to do.

Neithro hadn’t stopped smirking since this had begun, knowing very well that what was to come would be entertaining. While he had initially had doubts about this alliance with Kira, he had since grown to appreciate how much fun he was having. And this promised to be no different.

As Kira flew toward the gathering, Wreyn felt a sense of disappointment in his fellow man as he spotted an archer with a readied bow. With a quick mental jab, he pointed out the archer to Neithro, expecting the captain to interpret what to do.

With the final approach, it became clear that Kira had recognized the two men from Oakhold as she flew on a direct path toward them. With no regard for the enemy below, her path took her over the gathering as she prepared to land by her friends.

The arrow loosed, impacting a barrier just under the Dragon. She noticed the clang of impact and turned around in a wide circle, it became clear that she had spotted the offender. The adventurers fought to scatter, pushing each other aside as it turned from a retreat into a stampede. With her aim locked onto the archer, a plume of bright white flame bathed the area, leaving only charred ground.

“Neithro, I do believe Raya was right, she has grown again…”

“We will need to help her practice those flames, she only caught half a dozen in that attack. And who are those people she’s carrying?”

With the adventurers having cleared the area, Kira found herself with a lot more room to land. With a thump, she dumped her cargo before landing herself as Wreyn cast his comprehension spell.

“Hey, Cranky! Hey, Wreyn! Shaft and Tower Shield here have some information for you!”

With his gaze locked on the towering beast, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the jovial nature of her personality against the backdrop of having just erased several adventurers mere moments ago. A sense of his resolve solidifying and as he settled in to throw everything he had into the basket of helping Kira grow her power. She would live long after he had died, and if she could protect his lands, and his sweet, little Emily, then his would be a legacy for the ages.

“Greetings, Kira. I hope you’re well. I suspect we have much to discuss.”

“We do?”