(G351 14/04/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA28

(G351 14/04/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA28

DAY 324 (28th Hammer)(January) continued ...

Fenrir and  Veddic were in the tower of a necromancer called Owerode in the city of Bonespur in the Planeof Shadow.

The rooms they moved through here were full of broken furniture and bones. Many of the doors wer e trappedan d Veddic, himself a sort of amateur necromancer pulled his two ettercap skeletons from his bag of holdingand used them to search the doors for hidden triggers after they got caught in the first couple.
The ettercaps had been nicknamed Bill and Bob.

They encountered several undead wyverns as well, as they moved through the room s of the tower, but made s hortwork of them. In the last, largest room, they were attacked by a spectre, but again, it was swiftly dealtwith. The combined power of Fenrir and Veddic was mighty indeed against undead.

By the time they found their way up to the next level though, both Bill and Bob had been destroyed in traps .Bill fell down a pit that was full of poisonous spikes and Bob was riddled with arrows fired from the wall.

The stairs they found led up two or three floors to a door. Since it was locked and they had run out of
ettercap skeletons Veddic started whacking it with his chain.
After a few strikes a voice from within said, 'All right, all right, hold your horses!'
The door then opened and an elderly man that looked like a servant peered up at them.
'You're sure to be here to see the master, step this way gentlemen.'

They were led to a large dusty study full of books and scrolls. A man dressed in rich looking black  robesstool in the room waiting for them. He was early middle aged with a widow's peak and a goatee beard.

His two visitors told him they were their to find the location of a portal called the Black Gate.
He seemed happy enough to tell them.

'Now then, the Black Gate. Let's see...' he said as he read through some of his books.
'Oh yes, I recall its location now. There are mountains south of here, head towar ds them. Hmm, I've no ideaif th e road is still there, but you want to be going into a place called "Bonebreaker Pass". It's kind of gloomydown there and hard to navigate. You might be best served hiring a guide in town.
Go through the pass until you reach an unnamed flat valley that is full of frozen swamp. You'll know you're   int he right  place when you see a tower called the "Dark Spire of Ghastly Evil". Don't go near it, but, hmm lets see, headtowards it maybe a mile, then turn... south... you'll find yourself at the top of a cliff. The portal is hiddenin a gully somewhere around there. It's hard to spot, due to being in a gully you understand, but if you arecapable of defeating my minions, then I'm sure you'll manage. All told its only about ten miles from here.'

They looked at him rather blankly.

'Well, not that you asked, but I suspect your next question might be, "And what lies beyond the  Black  Gate  oh Great and Powerful Wizard?" Well, I'll tell you. A failed alternative material plane. I don't  know the specifics of that particular FAMP, but it will have been destroyed in some horrific and horrible way I should imagine. There may not even be any land, or air, or anything, so take care. It could have completely evaporated, but from my experience they are usually nothing more (or less) than barren wastelands.These sorts of places are not so uncommon in the Plane of Shadow. This plane acts as a conduit bet ween the material plane and all sorts of other interesting places. It's one of the reasons I'm based here.'

With that, he cast a spell and opened up a hole in the side of the room out t o the open air.When Fenr ir asked if there was an easier way of getting in than through all the undead below hegot the terse reply, 'No. I find that it keeps away the riff raff and people have to seriously want to talk to me if they are prepared to deal with everything down there. Cheerio!'

Fenrir and Veddic flew down and rejoined Barrington and his fellows. They all then returned to theFriendly Unicorn Inn.

Veddic went to his room, but Fenrir, as ever, was on the prowl for a lady friend. There were three main common rooms in the sprawling Unicorn Inn. The first was populated mainly by humans, the second by derro,kao-toa, half-orcs and the like. The third by the weird and dreadful creatures of the Plane of Shadows.
Opening the door, he saw the floor was covered in blood and a woman dressed all in leather was hammering a spike into a man's head as he cried in joy. This was not the only ghastly thing going on in this room so he skulked back to the first common room.

After he had got rid of a rough man in black plate armour by using his considerable powers of intimidationFenrir did the rounds, looking for his new friend.
At the bar he met a female half-elf cleric of Helm, but she was only interested in searching for the meaning of a prophecy regarding "the seven legged cat".
Veddic had reappeared and talked to her for a while, so Fenrir felt rather frozen out and moved on.

He spotted a woman dressed in studded leather, lurking at a corner table under the stairs. She had pointy ears and a pinched face, with piercing's in her lips and eyebrows. Fenrir didn't know but she was a shadar-kai, one of those poor doomed race that I myself met when I had dealings in the Plane of Shadow. Her name was Elvaney.

It took him a while, and it briefly turned violent, but in the end he both bedded her and hired her as a
guide for the next day. The act of bedding her would have been a rather painful experience too, if it hadn't been for his Warlock's damage reduction!

DAY 325 (29th Hammer)(January)

Elvaney worked as a guide for anyone that was new to the area and needed to get around. She expertly led them to the location Owerode had told them of.

At the bottom of the gully, before the Black Gate, was a collection of ramshackle buildings. As they approached an old man came out and cried, 'Be gone! We have nothing of value here and we are diseased! Stay away!'

They ignored him and walked up to the gate. They had only been told to find it, not enter it, and none of them had any desire to see what dangers lay inside. They returned to talk to the old man.

His name was Avadeti and when they introduced themselves he asked, 'Are you intending to travel
through the black gate?'
'Perhaps,' answered Fenrir.
'Towards what purpose?'
Fenrir looked at Barrington, but the paladin shrugged.
'We were only told to find it,' he said. 'Then report back.'
'Well, if you do,' said Avadeti. 'Don't spend too much time in the Voidlands. Undead lurk in the mists and even just breathing the fetid air will kill you after a while. No one can survive long there, but sometimes, rarely, people come through the gate. Little flecks of habitable land still remain of our world. How to find them I have no idea. Also, it is a world of what the scholars call Wild Magic. Spells will have strange effect unless you are a real master.'

The old man then went on to explain what had happened to his world.
'It is an infinite sorrow that I carry with me, the destruction of my world. We were a world of great power and magic. My people walked the planes, they crafted many wondrous items, they researched a thousand spells. But the arch mages grew too powerful, too bold and too proud. They attempted to build a device that woudl turn anything into a spell. Put a rabbit in and you got a shard (we used shards to store our spells, they functioned in the same way as scrolls) and you got a spell that summoned a rabbit. Point the device at an ocean and you get a spell that created water. You understand? Well, the first time the device was used, it didn't turn something into a spell, it turned EVERYTHING into a spell. It stripped the entire top layer of our world off and converted it into shards. Only a few of us survived, I've no idea how. I can never return, I would be turned into a shard,
so here I wait.'

After they had talk to him, he also told them that there was no disease (it was just a ruse to keep people away) they thanked him and left.

They made it all the way back to Spectre Island by midnight.


DAY 326 (30th Hammer)(January)

They were tired, but before going to bed they told Random what had happened in their adventure beyond the portal.
'I don't know what any of it means,' admitted the tiefling, 'But Ill report it back and see what they say.'

In the morning, Fenrir and Veddic met Dressdelle in Westgate for another day in the Watch.

It was a clear day and the only trouble they had was from a cheeky flying gnome called Billingyam.
She was rather insulted by being told to go in via the gate, but in the end she did so.

Fenrir spent the rest of the shift buttering up Dressdelle. After work Fenrir and Veddic returned to Spectre Island.

(G350 07/04/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA27

(G350 07/04/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA27

DAY 319 (22th Hammer)(January) cont ...

Back in Westgate, Fenrir wasted no time in wandering over to the watch tower of Trepplemar the Magnificent.She listened to his r  eport on the uncovered coven of cannibals in Klapton and his admission of killing two of their magistrates.

'Very well, mission accomplished I suppose. As long as Haggam the Hermit  was happy, then we are happy. We  rely on him to watch that dragon for us and that's all good information about Grappa Valley. Good to know. While you are part of the watch we'll handle any issues that arise with Lord Karden. Well, it's back to work for you then. You know the routine with Dressdelle by now.'

As they had lost Veddic's main mode of transport  they went to Gondeth's Mageries and bought a flyingca rpet for him. Together they then headed over to Spectre Island. Again, without Arahel to guide them,they got somewhat lost, but found it eventually.

They sold their loot to Random and got a bit of extra money towards the carpet. Random was s ad to hear ofArahel's death. He had been hoping she would help him with setting up gardens on the island.

They talked over dinner that evening, going over their plans moving forward and among other things
Random said:

In regards to the 'Main Quest':
'Consider this your main task, Fenrir old chum. What needs to happen is  that you become the leader of the Wat c  h. Noteasy I know. First you need to get rid of Dressdelle, then Trepplemar, then Just Captain Torndith Hammersong.Now, Dressdelle we already know is not from Westgate. She's a war wizard from Cormyr. What is she doing here? Idon't know exactly, but it has something to do with an event called the "Magpie Affair". I have a spy in Cormyrat the moment, but in the mean time see what you can charm out of her?'

In regards to the quest beyond the portal:
'Barry and his lads have done a  great job carving a route to the city out of the wilds of the Plane of Shadow.  They need help from you for the next bit though. Barry has the details, but I believe it concerns a tower witha single very high up entrance.'

In regards to his own dealings:

'If you don't fancy either of those, my old boon compa nion then I have a few side jobs you could do for me. Strictly off the book s,nothing to do with Cavu, wink wink. You sort of did ok at the Grand Mansion where you punished the evil merchant for me. The nextthing I need you to do is deliver a secret message...'

Finally he said:

'The main quest is pretty slow moving, my old matey. From  what I'm picking up from Cavu we've got about a year before we nee dto seriously start worrying about deadlines. The stuff in the Plane of Shadow, its more a sort of 'nice to have' and I thinkmore a bit of 'Do-Good-ery' by Gerty and Cavu I suspect.'

'Oh, other stuff I need doing is sorting out all the other islands around here. Help feeding all these bloody refugees.' (Referring to the twenty or so people that Barry's gang had rescued from the Plane of Shadows while on their adventures)

'That Grappa Valley sounds like an interesting place. It might help with our p lans further along as well. I'll discusswi th Cavu and get back to you. It might be a good idea at some point to go back and sort out your legal situation. Don'tworry about it for now though, just an idea I have rolling around in my head.'

'A chap called Fayder has been skulking around Westgate, watching for you. He's Rathol Erlend's pet assass in. It tried to have him killed but he's pretty slippery and he's still in the city I think. Keep your eyes open for him.'

Also that evening Fenrir had a chat w ith Barrington about how to get to the city in the Plane of Shadow. They pla n n edto set off all together once Fenrir could get some time off work. Barrington explained that their quest was to findthe location of a portal known as the 'Black Gate'. Through some detective work they had discovered that a wizard(or possibly a necromancer) who lived in the city of Bonespur might know the location. Barrington needed help from fliers to get into the wizards tower.


DAY 320 (23th Hammer)(January)

Veddic stayed on the island today and conjured up food and wate r for as many people as he could. He also tended tothe sick amongst the refugees that had come through the portal.

Meanwhile Fenrir met Dressdelle at their usual starting point in Westgate at seven in the morning.

As to his recent adventures in Grappa Valley she said:

'Yes, seems fair eno ugh. A town where the nobles are all cannibal cultists is thankfully not our concern. As long  as the d ra gon isn't going to disrupt Westgate's wine supply that's the main thing. I expect Lord Karden or whatever his namewas will sent a subpoena or something along to bring you to trail, but he has no authority here and the watch can stall him for years. I expect he'll be in no hurry to kick over a hornets nest anyway. I'd say watch your back, in regards to Lord Paynon possibly attempting to revenge himself on you, but you have much bigger and closer problems with the Fire Knives - haha!'

The also arranged that Dressdelle would take two days off first, then Fenrir could get some time off.

There was a bit of snow her e and there today so Dressdelle used it as an excuse to keep warm on her usual rooftopspot and drink lots of tea.

At seven in the evening Fenrir returned to Spectre Island.


DAY 321 (25th Hammer)(January)

Fenrir patrolled the sky above Westgate alone for the first time t oday. He had Veddic come along with him onhis magi c carpet. He checked with Trepplemar first and she said it was fine for Veddic to 'fly at Fenrir's pleasure'but the watch would otherwise have nothing to do with him legally.

There were high winds today so flying was limited. Fenrir followed Dressdelle's usual  routine of perching on topof watch towers somewhere sheltered and getting watchmen to bring him food and drink.

They saw a woman on a broomstick leave the city today, but she was going to fast for them too follow.

In the evening they returned to the island. Fenrir decided to look for love tonight amongst the adventurer' s thatformed part of 'Barry's Gang'. There was Brambles, but as she was a halfling she was far too small for him.
The left only Evelline, who w as a cleric of Leira. She had no interest in Fenrir at all, but he did talk to herfor a while and made friends.


DAY 322 (26th Hammer)(January)

Fenrir and Veddic patrolled the skies over Westgate once more.

Today a dwarven bard, flying by some magical means, refused to stop entering the city and attack ed them.She used her bardic magic to first 'Fascinate' Fenrir then attempted to use 'Suggestion' on him.

As Fenrir was entranced by her siren song Veddic first only struck her with his spiked chain. This had
some affect on her, but she kept up her song. Realising he would be in a lot of trouble if  she managed tobend Fenrir to her will he then used 'Inflict Wounds' on her and struck her instantly dead.

Her body tumbled down into the streets of Westgate. They followed it down, then looted it.

After work they headed back to the island for the night.


DAY 323 (27th Hammer)(January)

Another work day for Fenrir and Veddic. Dressdelle also returned from her short holiday.

It was misty today so they simply sat about, ate food and drank tea waiting for it to clear.

After and uneventful day Fenrir and Veddic returned to the island.


DAY 324 (28th Hammer)(January)

As arranged Fenrir and Veddic, the old campaigners, headed in to the Plane of Shadow with Barrington
and his 'gang'.
They were:
Oxtongue   - a dwarven fighter
Evelline   - 4 a cleric of Leira
Brambles   - a halfling rogue
Pinkmoss   - a half-elf sorcerer

They wer e all not as battle hardened as Fenrir and Veddic and looked on them with some amount ofrespect.

Once they entered the portal, they exited the ro ck pillar it was inside and made their way thoughthe five miles of swamp to the city of Bonespur.
It was a nightmarish reflection of Westgate, full of undead and other fallen beings.

Barry and his gan g had already cleared the way and found a place to stay within the city walls called the "Friendly Unicorn Inn". Fenrir found the city somewhat reminiscent of the underdarktown of Pedestal.
He saw the various types of walking fish humanoids going about their business,  as well as tho seblue skinned crazy dwarves known as derro. There were a lot of other people around and he hadno idea what they were, but around the area of the inn was relatively peaceful.

'This is the only part o f the city safe to travel,' explained Barrington. 'There is a derro ghettoa nd areas full of undead. We would be attacked there. This ward is where the humans mainly live, ifyou can call it living.'

Their was the  a unicorn's skull above the door of the inn. It was a large building, that was buil taround a litter strewn court-yard. There were several common rooms and Barrington led them to themost peaceful.
'We've rented rooms already,' he said. 'None of us have dared to eat or drink anything they sell
here yet though.'
Fenrir could see why, the whole place was full of dirt, litter and bones. The place stunk.
'A mind flayer called Lord Soslow owns the place, he seems decent enough' continued Ba rrington as theywent upstairs to their rooms. He then opened a window and pointed out across the city.
'That big tower over there is where you need to get in. The only windows are  sixty feet up, there is no door or window below that level. The wizard's name is Owerode by the way.'
'Let's just do it now,' said Fenrir.

Barrington led them all to the base  of the tower. His party had already cleared the streets nearby of thederro gangs that haunted this area.

Fenrir and Veddic flew up to the window and ente red the tower of Owerode. The room they fo undthemselves in was large and full of broken dusty furniture. From out of the litter a giantskeleton unfolded itself. It then attacked them.
Almost by ref lex Fenrir blasted it with everything he had and it exploded in a shower of bon es.'Well, that answers the question of whether old Owerode is a necromancer or not,' he said toVeddic wryly.

(G349 31/03/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA26

(G349 31/03/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA26

DAY 314 (18th Hammer)(January)

With, perhaps, heavy hearts, Fenrir and Veddic left Haggam the Hermit to his vigil, and went down  into the valley.

Haggam had noticed in the morning that the dragon had attack not only Klapton, but Upper and Lower Fedred and he asked them to go take a look on their way out of the valley to see if they could be of any help.

It was snowing, and without Arahel, it took a bit longer to get to Upper Fedred than it would have had she been there. In this village, Rodger told them that the dragon had only wrecked two houses and killed three people. There were quite a few badly hurt people and Veddic helped them with his healing magic.

Since they had not plans to resurrect Arahel, she was buried in Rodger's garden. The grove of a fellow druid seemed like a suitable resting place.

They stayed the night in a tavern in the village. They had a good night, drinking to Arahel's memory perhaps, and Rodger's daughter Derfew and her friend Rosa were there.

Derfew made a pass at Fenrir that night, she was a wild girl, but he was too drunk to be of much use to her.

DAY 315 (19th Hammer)(January)

Fenrir woke up with a pounding headache. Derfew was in bed beside him, smoking a pipe. He only had a dim memory of going to bed with her.

He opened the window as the smoke was making him feel sick and ordered up some breakfast. Derfew was fairly plain in appearance and was a large strapping lass. She got dressed before Fenrir and left telling him she was off hunting.

Fenrir and Veddic had a slow start and didn't make it to Lower Fedred until the afternoon. This village had also been attacked and Veddic healed everyone that required it. He took a look at the poor mayor again, but his disease just had too firm a hold on him and Veddic could do little to help him.

They stayed the night in the only inn in the village. It was not as jolly or pleasant as the one in Upper Fedred so their evening was uneventful.

DAY 316 (20th Hammer)(January)

In the morning they set off north again. They avoided Klapton and walked on to Port Seder.

Along the road a dispatch rider stopped and said to them,

'They want to speak with you back in town.'

I bet they do, thought Fenrir, but he said, 'We are going to speak to Lord Karden.'

The rider nodded and continued on his way to Klapton at the gallop.

They had hoped to get to Port Seder before nightfall, but neither of them were good in the countryside. The road lead into the forest and they walked through it in the dark.

They were attacked by four skeletal owlbears, but when Veddic's turn attempt failed Fenrir easily blasted them all to bits with his Eldritch Cone Blast.

They eventually arrived at Port Seder, then trudged up the road to the small castle of Lord Karden. Fenrir felt fed up and tired, wishing that he had thought of buying a horse from one of the villages.

Lord Karden welcomed them in and gave them refreshments. Fenrir told him the truth, more or less.

'Well,' said the lord. 'It's a bad business. There will have to be a hearing. With Vecteria the only magistrate left I'll have to be the presiding judge. Which means you can't be here as it will prejudice the case. You'd better spend the night in the village, I'll let you know the court date when it's arranged.'

They went and stayed in the house of Gordelle Bode, who was an old lady and not at all dismayed to have two young men turn up at her doorstep. She gave them supper and showed them to their rooms. She was alone except for three servants.

In his room, looking out the window, Fenrir saw in the harbour that there were only three boats, one was about sixty feet long, but the others were just fishing boats.

Any idea of booking passage on a passing merchant ship he suddenly realised was a vane hope.

'Oh,' said Gordelle when he asked her, 'We don't get any merchants down here in winter.

The big boat down there belongs to me, but she's not seaworthy at the moment. The other two belong to two local men who do a bit of fishing in the summer. You'll need to offer them a fortune to take you to Westgate! They are very lazy and only go out into the gulf a little ways on the calmest of days.'

DAY 317 (20th Hammer)(January)

Gordelle gave them a nice big fried breakfast in the morning. After that, Fenrir wandered over the village green and knocked on the door of one of the fishermen.

A local man known as Old Pedar resided within. At first he was terrified of the idea of sailing to Westgate in the middle of winter, but he was persuaded by Fenrir's offer of 500 gold - a fortune to a man like him!

'Give me a day to get her ready, my lord,' he said. 'Then we can sail tomorrow morning.'

Fenrir and Veddic spent the rest of the day taking it easy in the house of Gordelle. In the evening a messenger came to tell them that the court hearing date was to be in eight days.

'Very well!' said Fenrir with a smile and a wink, folding the summons into his pocket.

He hoped they would be long gone by then.

DAY 318 (21th Hammer)(January)

At dawn, four men in a tiny fishing boat set off from Port Seder. Fenrir, Veddic, Old Pedar and a young fellow that they only knew as 'the boy'.

On the first day the boat was attacked by three merrow (a larger type of merman). They hurled  big javelins at them and injured Old Pedar who hid in the wheelhouse. Fenrir killed one of them, but the other two then went under the boat and started rocking it violently.

Fenrir then jumped in the water, found that his blasts did in fact also work in that medium, killed them and jumped back out again.

Once Veddic healed him Old Pedar, trembling in fear, decide it would be best to keep sailing through the night so as to get to Westgate as quickly as possible.

DAY 319 (22th Hammer)(January)

They arrived in Westgate in the mid-morning. Old Pedar and the boy had never been here before so they looked up at the big harbour and the ocean going ships moored there with wide eyes.

Fenrir paid the man the 500 as arranged plus the 200 odd he had looted from the merrows.

'Thank you my lord!' said the old man happily. 'I think me and the boy will winter here though, then go back in the spring when it’s safer.'

He then chinked all the gold in his pocket, put his arm around the boy and together they headed towards the nearest tavern.

Island of Dragons - chapter 9 - to the spire

Chapter 9 - To The Spire (6182)

It was still gloomy twilight when Roztov returned to the camp. Meggelaine sat bolt upright from where she was sleeping by the fire. Ghene was half awake, leaned against the side of the rock the camp sheltered behind.

‘Roztov!’ she squealed. ‘Where the bloody hell have you been? We expected you hours ago.’

 ‘Yes, but I popped in at the chasm on the way back,’ said Roztov. ‘Ghene, it’s incredible! We were way off with everything. The architecture is something totally...’

‘Popped in at the chasm?’ interrupted Meggelaine shrilly.

‘Just... Well, yes, but you won’t believe all the things I saw inside, the fresco, the archi...’

‘You went inside!?’

‘Yes, Meg, I...’

‘You! Come here. Bend down!’

Roztov sat down by the fire and fended her off with his left hand. ‘I’m not falling for that again. Anyway, I saw prayer halls and what looked like baths. I saw the most fantastical carvings, a chamber I think that was for a king or some kind of ruler anyway, it was so heartbreaking to see the damage the dragons had done though, bloody philistines. All trampled a man crushing a bird’s nest underfoot. In the corridors too small for the dragons though, much of it remains intact, and I did find a larger chamber that was still completely undamaged, with statues of people in pairs and with statues of elephants. The guy I talked to called the people that did the carvings the “cloth-wearers” and that they were friends with animals, whatever he meant by that.’

‘Incredible,’ said Ghene. ‘The statues of peoples where clothed then. In what fashion?’

Roztov was about to say something, but was cut short by Meggelaine screaming.

‘Shut up you pair of idiots!’ she yelled. ‘It doesn’t matter! We’ve got bigger problems than working out whether... whether these agents wore kilts or breeches! Can we cross the chasm safely, that was what you were sent to find out, remember?’

‘Well, about that. The dragon they had put in the cage, I talked to her. In exchange for me freeing her she told me a lot of stuff about the place. She says the only safe place to cross is the eastern forest near the Spire.’

‘Oh Etruna!’ groaned Meggelaine. ‘You are going to be the death of me Roztov. You’re worse than that idiot, Broddor. You want to be eaten by a dragon, is that it?’

‘No,’ said Roztov trying to pull her in for a hug. ‘I admit it sounds foolish, but I did it carefully. The dragon never made any threats against me.’

‘Did it carefully? Get your hands off me,’ growled Meggelaine. ‘Look at you. You act like it’s as easy as a walk in the woods, but look, your hands are shaking.’

Roztov looked down at his hands and saw that they were indeed shaking quite violently.

‘Yes, yes. I think I must be reacting to the danger now. I’m terrified, are you happy?’

Meggelaine folded her arms and looked at him.

‘Don’t worry sweetie,’ said Roztov. ‘Please just put the kettle on. I’ll be fine after a nice cup of tea.’

Meggelaine looked at him for a few more moments, the finally relented and put the kettle over the fire.

‘You’ve got to take care. Not just avoiding being a dragon’s breakfast, but your wellbeing. You’re no use to anyone if you turn yourself into a head case.’

‘It’s probably easier if you don’t draw attention to it sweetie. Just let me bury it all in bravado for now, we can deal with my mental health later.’

‘Bravado, that’s exactly what it is. You have to remember you are just a man. Underneath all the magic and druid power there is a human animal. All that animal instinct to flee from something so big and terrifying is all still in you.’

‘Yes, you are right,’ admitted Roztov. ‘Well, although it’s maybe not all dragon fear either. To have discovered so much in one day. A whole other civilisation. It goes some way to explain why the people that live here look the way they do. They are likely the last remnants of a human kingdom, rather like the elves being the last of the Dynar.’

‘I would dearly like to have a look inside,’ said Ghene who was still not fully convinced that it was humans that had built the chasm halls.

‘Don’t you dare,’ said Meggelaine. ‘There has definitely been more than enough foolishness in regards to that chasm. My nerves are shot. I can't take it any longer, I'm a wreck. You all just have to stop.’

There was a pause in the conversation while Meggelaine prepared a cup of tea for Roztov and handed it to him. She then went on to prepare two more.

‘I don’t wish to sound mean here,’ began Roztov. ‘But honestly, you two are a right pair of nitwits. What did you expect when we set off from Tullis? When the plan is "just sail west and see where we end up"? Well, this is where we ended up. Right here, in this bloody mess.’

‘I know, I know,’ replied Meggelaine, close to tears, ‘Don’t have a go at me Roz. I can’t help it, how long has it been now? Two weeks? I’ve been living off my nerves. Fear has never left me once. And most of the crew died, I’m going to have that on my conscious for the rest of my life.’

‘Hey hey,’ said Roztov as he managed to grab her and pull her in for a hug. ‘Like I said, we can deal with all that later. Look at it this way though, no one lied to them where we were going or how dangerous it would be.’

‘I'll send money to their family’s when we get back...’

‘Yes do that. Honestly though Em, there is no use worrying about it until we get off this blasted island.’

Ghene finished his tea and put his cup down gently on a nearby flat rock. Meggelaine would have usually swooped in to take it and clean it, but for now she was content to stay cradled in Roztov’s left arm. Wind swirled briefly into their camp and kicked up some sparks from the fire.

They waited for the wind to die down and watched the flames for a while. Seeing that the other two were too comfortable to move Ghene stood and fed some more wood onto the fire.

‘Tell us what your friend the dragon told you then Roz,’ he said.

‘His friend Mrs Dragon, apparently.’

Roztov carefully told them everything he could remember about what Lorkuvan had told him. The chasm, the spire, the names of dragons he had learned and the details of their nature. After he had finished the other two digested this information until finally Ghene said. ‘Roz are you seriously telling me that the King of the Dragons... wears a toupee?’

Meggelaine exploded into a fit of giggles and as he also laughed Roztov said. ‘Apparently so!’

It took a while for Meggelaine to recover from her hysterics. She then got the hiccups.

‘Well anyway,’ said Ghene. ‘It’s good to know the chasm dragons have no magic. Dragons with magic we can never win against, but if those fellows down there have none then we have a chance at least.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Roztov. ‘They are big, and hugely powerful, but that’s all they’ve got. If they can’t see you they can’t find you.’

‘Or burn you to a crisp,’ put in Meggelaine in between hiccups.

‘The one exception being this dragon called Shumakkak,’ said Roztov. ‘She’s the lithe green one, a sky tracker apparently, whatever that is.’

‘Well, because of her we change the plan?’ asked Meggelaine. ‘Take the manhunter route through the Spire hunting grounds to the east?’

‘I’m not sure Roz,’ said Ghene. ‘Can we trust this dragon of yours?

‘I think so. Besides she told me when I asked about the manhunters. I didn’t mention I was planning going north or that I was with anyone else.’

‘Bloody dragon girlfriend now,’ grumbled Meggelaine, who was still sat in the crook of his left arm.

‘What can I say? I’ve always been popular with the ladies,’ he said as he ruffled her hair.

‘Even so,’ said Ghene. ‘Let’s not be hasty. We should head back to Moletown again now anyway. I’d like to spend a few more days attuning I think. Focus my attention east.’

‘Good idea.’

They set off after lunch, saying farewell to their cosy little campsite they had spent four nights in. It would take them three hours to fly back to Moletown so they calculated they had plenty of time. There had been a fresh snowfall in the morning and the trees were freshly covered. The sky was overcast and few flakes continued to fall here or there.

The peaks were clear of trees, but the valleys were full of them, packed so tight that in most areas the ground could not be seen. The rivers were either iced over or clogged with snow. This area around the chasm seemed to be the tallest part of Tanud and spring would arrive late.

The three birds swooped into the valley they already knew would take them south, and followed the river back that they had followed up five days before.

***

Despite everything they tried they could not make a camp that was as comfortable as the druids were capable of. With a druid, a camp felt like home, warm and welcoming. Somehow the snow and the cold felt at bay, as if viewed from inside a nice snug cottage, looking out through the window.

Without them though, it was misery. Floran was a master of fire and could certainly keep one going, but they were too scared to make anything other than a small one, just large enough to cook with. Not that they had much to cook on it. The wildlife was pretty docile, but none of them were hunters. Salveri had literally tripped over a rotrok the day before and its meat had been the first they’d had since fleeing Moletown.

‘It is so cold!’ groaned Tankle as she warmed her hands by the fire. ‘My arse is freezing off!’

‘Can we not build up the fire a bit, my lord?’ asked Salveri looking up at Floran who was stood with his rear pointing at the flames.

‘Well, perhaps just a bit.’

‘It’s amazing what a difference having the druids around is, isn’t it my lord?’ observed Arrin, not for the first time.

‘Indeed yes,’ said Floran. ‘Druid magic. You don’t always see it at work.’

‘Do you think we should stay here my lord?’

This was the afternoon of their third day out from Moletown. The first night they had fled north (they hoped) and made camp in the roots of some massive unknown variety of tree. It had been utterly miserable. The next day they set off in hope of finding a better campsite, failed, attempted to return to the first camp, got lost and then settle where they were now for the second night in a wet, moss filled gulley with a tree fallen across it. They had leant some branches against one side to keep the wind off the fire, but the moss had all been churned up into mud and they were all covered in it.

‘I think so,’ said Floran who had no idea what to do, but didn’t seem too bothered about it. ‘We should probably wait until the druids turn up.’

‘They will find us?’

‘Oh, undoubtedly.’

Salveri was cutting up rotrok meat with his knife, poking the strips of flesh onto sticks and cooking them on the fire.

‘What a bloody mess,’ he grumbled to no one in particular.

Floran agreed, but said nothing. He was looking over the top of their shelter which was about level with his nose. He had not lied when he had said the druids would find them, he was certain of that. He was slightly more concerned that the dragons might find them first. He knew he would probably survive such an encounter, but wasn’t sure if the others would. He would probably have to do what Broddor did and hold off the attack while they fled, further splitting up the party.

He looked over his shoulder for a moment, down at the others by the fire. Ophess was thankfully being quiet. Salveri was his usual sullen self. Arrin and Tankle doing as well as could be expected. Floran’s eyes lingered on Tankle, drawn to her firm buxom body... Realising that thinking about that sort of thing was of no help in this situation he turned his head forward again and found his vision blocked by an apparently angry kestrel stood on the fallen tree looking him directly in the eye.

The kestrel was then joined by a goshawk and a sparrowhawk.

Not that Floran could have named the types of hawks he was looking at, but he knew who they were. He stepped back far enough to let them hop down onto the mud and change into their true forms.

‘What happened?’ asked Meggelaine. ‘What are you all doing out here? And where is Broddor?’

Floran took a moment to collect his thoughts, then said, ‘A man came to the settlement. It turned out he was a dragon. When we tried to leave the town the dragon confronted us. Broddor held it off while we escaped. That was two days ago.’

‘Let’s talk on the move,’ interrupted Ghene. ‘There is a much better camp site half a mile west of here.’

As they walked Floran told what more he knew. When Floran mentioned the name of Mordran, Meggelaine explained and said, ‘That’s the fellow that came to our campsite, Roztov! I must say, he was friendlier when he was with us.’

‘Yes, I wonder why.’

‘Oh well,’ said Floran who then cleared his throat and continued. ‘The dragon tried to stop us leaving, and Broddor bandied words with it for a while. Technically though, he struck the first blow.’

‘I see,’ said Meggelaine with ice in her voice.

‘They seemed evenly matched, from what I observed as we left. I’m not...’

‘Oh be quiet!’ snapped the fressle. ‘We were only gone a few days! What is it with Broddor? He has the diplomatic skills of a stink-weasel. And you are no better!’

‘Now then,’ interrupted Roztov. ‘It’s done now. Let’s just relocated then see what we can do to sort things out.’

Meggelaine fumed silently the rest of the way.

The place that Ghene had found was indeed a much better spot. It was in an area where it had recently snowed and it lay thick and heavy, but it was near a half frozen stream. The druids used their magic to make a hide that was big enough for all of them and was artfully hidden from view. They quickly lit a fire and with a wave of his hand, Roztov moved some of the entwined branches above them aside to allow the smoke out.

‘I’ll go hunt us some meat,’ said Ghene and left the camp.

While Meggelaine busied herself about the hide, seeking out drafts and plugging them, arranging places for people to recline or sleep and such like, Roztov told the others of their adventures to the north. When Ghene returned with a dear carcass, he got up and stretched.

‘Well, I’d better go look for Broddor before it gets too dark. As ever, it falls to me to go find what trouble he’s got himself into and get him out of it.’

‘Tradition dictates it,’ said Ghene. ‘Roz must always be the one that goes to find Broddor.’

‘Smart arse.’

‘You think he still lives, my lord?’ asked Arrin.

‘I expect so. He’ll be around somewhere.’

‘Well, stay out of trouble yourself,’ said Meggelaine. ‘If Mordran has been fighting Broddor he’s sure to be angry.’

‘Oh, I’m sure it will be fine. Besides, I’ve been itching to try something out and now might be a good time.’

Meggelaine looked up from her work and growled, ‘What?’

‘Summon a dragon.’

‘Impossible,’ said Meggelaine with some relief.

‘I feel like I’ve got it in me.’

‘You’ll rupture yourself, like the time Festos tried to turn into a basilisk. He couldn’t walk upright for a month.’

‘I’m talking about summoning one, not turning into one, although...’

‘Not a chance,’ put in Ghene as he prepared the deer meat.

‘Think about it though. If not here, then where else? This place is chock-a-block with dragons. If a dragon can turn into a man, may a man not turn into a dragon?’

Both the druids and Floran made general blustering noises of protest.

‘Is that how it works?’ asked Salveri, once things quietened down.

‘Pretty much,’ explained Roztov. ‘It’s easier to turn into certain creatures when you are in their environment. And summon them too. Sympathetic druid magic. So, bears and wolves in these sorts of northern forests are the easiest to do. In Fiarka it would be mountain lions and crocodiles, you get the idea. So here, on the island of dragons, well...’

‘Put it out of your mind Roz,’ cautioned Meggelaine. ‘You’ll turn yourself inside out.’

‘We’ll see,’ he said. ‘I’ll think about it.’

He then turned into a fox and trotted off.

After a while Ghene looked up and turning to Floran said, ‘So Moletown is effectively a zoo for the Spire dragons?’

‘That is the current hypothesis.’

***

It had been quite a fight. A tale to tell in the taverns of Tullis and Timu that was for sure. When Mordran had come for them, Broddor had charged, meeting him head on. As the others fled, he leapt at the dragon, his sword Gronmorder held above his head.

At first the dragon had merely attempted to swat him aside, and had earned a deep cut along its left foreleg for its trouble. Now fearing the blade and seemingly losing its temper it then drew back its head and unleashed its dragon’s breath. The icy blast would have killed him instantly had he not been in his armour and even so he felt its effects as it chilled to the bone. The air was full of cold steam and Broddor was lost from view. As it cleared he could be seen at its centre, covered in ice and snow crystals.

His feet were stuck to the ground, embedded in a foot of ice. The arm joints of his armour were frozen solid. The dragon made to go past him, thinking him dead, but Broddor strained his arms and shattered the ice around him enough to be able to swing his sword again. It struck the dragon in the flank and it reared back in surprise and pain.

The beast lashed out with its right claw, but was cut again as Broddor met the blow with his sword. The force of the impact shattered the ice around one of his legs and he took a step back.

The dragon breathed again and as the steam and snow cleared it watched to see the result. Broddor was covered in rock hard ice, immobile, a frozen statue in the rough outline of a dwarf. The dragon waited a few moments to confirm its victory, and just as it turned its head a voice echoed out of Broddor’s frozen helmet.

‘I’m still alive.’

The dragon spoke something in draconic, a language Broddor did not know, but its meaning was clear enough. How can this be?

‘Magic armour, mate. The smiths of the Holy Order of Aerekrig don’t piss about.’

Broddor grunted and the ice fell from his arms again, in heavy chunks. He swung his sword a couple of times to shake the ice off it.

‘Hey, don’t wander off,’ said Broddor as the dragon made to leave. ‘Look, I’ve got my leg free again. If you go after my friends, I’m going to be right behind you. You have to fight me first.’

The dragon snarled and leapt up into the trees, then crashing through the upper limbs of a stand of pines it took to the air. It cried out, though, when it discovered it had a determined dwarf in full plate armour holding onto its tail.

Screeching it turned in the air and snapped its jaws at its unwanted passenger, but reared out of the way as Broddor brought his sword up. The dragon flew on for a few wing beats, trying to gain some height, but the dwarf was now hacking at its tail.  Not big blows, hardly even drawing blood as he struggled to maintain his grip with his legs, but certainly enough to be annoying.

Mordran, somewhat panicked at how things were going dove back down into the trees and they landed together in a heap. The dragon was first on its feet, throwing trees off his body like kindling. It looked around, and saw its enemy, picking himself up, shaking his head and leaning on his sword.

The dragon was not used to fighting people that could fight back, but even so it could not quite decide to flee. Neither did it fancy facing that long sharp sword that the dwarf wielded and while it stood in indecision Broddor got his bearings back and walked up to it again.

‘Come on then.’

***

Two days later the fight had more or less ended in a draw. The dragon besides its frozen breath, claws and teeth knew plenty of magic and had expended much of its energy on spells that were seemingly useless against Broddor’s holy armour. After the first few hours the combat was effectively over and they had spent the rest of their time resting until one of them felt strong enough to attack the other, then the fight would recommence. This became the pattern and as it became obvious to both of them that neither could defeat the other they had come to a standstill.

They had ended up with Broddor stood on one side of an area of trees that had been flattened in the last bought, and the dragon lain down at the other. Broddor didn’t mind overly much that this was the current situation, reasoning that each hour that went by was extra time for his friends to sort themselves out.

A fox trotted up to him.

‘Fox Roztov?’ he asked.

The fox turned into the man and said, ‘Hello Broddor.’

‘Did you use your druid magic to find me?’

‘Druid magic?’ snorted Roztov. ‘You and this dragon have laid waste to literally miles of forest. A blind man could have found you.’

‘Right right,’ sighed the dwarf. ‘I admit I’m nae in the mood for banter right now lad. Do you have any water? I’ve been eating handfuls of snow, but I still have a raging thirst.’

‘In the name of Etruna, have you been fighting for two days? Here.’

Broddor thankfully took the druid’s water skin and drained it. Once he was finished he smacked his lips and handed back the empty skin.

‘Now that you are here, I can have a pee,’ the dwarf turned so he was facing the dragon and began to unfasten some of his armour. ‘No peaking.’

As a long steady stream of steaming dwarf piss hit the ground he continued to talk.

‘He’s a tough one, I’ll give him that. I’ve been keeping him pinned down, waiting for you to get here and make the others safe. He threw all his magic at me to begin with, but he’s spent now. It’s a standoff.’

‘Well, I’m here to rescue you now.’

‘Rescue?’ laughed the dwarf. ‘Dinnae talk nonsense. All I needed was someone to watch the dragon while I took a piss. Now I can go over and slay him, just you watch. Knus mig...’

‘What is he doing anyway? He looks like he’s sleeping.’

‘Oh, he’s awake all right,’ said Broddor as he fastened his armour back up. ‘He’s been over there nursing his wounds for the last three hours. I’ve shredded his wings enough that he can’t fly, so if you just heal me up a bit I can go over and finish him off.’

‘No. Let’s go talk to him instead.’

Roztov walked towards the dragon and Broddor took off after him.

‘He speaks his own language lad. I doubt we could persuade him to turn into a man so we can have a chat.’

‘I’ve learned a new trick since I saw you last. I can talk to him.’

Broddor removed his helmet and brushed his beard out as best he could. He noticed that a fair chunk of it had been frozen off. He raised his eyebrows as Roztov turned into some sort of fat lizard and then climbed up onto a shattered tree trunk to address the dragon.

‘Come no closer,’ said Mordran in draconic. ‘I under estimated the dwarf, I admit that, but I could still kill you both in an instant if I wished it. Or turn you into frogs.’

‘You talk bravely for a dragon with its wings in tatters,’ replied the druid.

‘Don’t taunt me, soft skinned wretch. ‘

‘What’s this all about anyway?’

‘It’s beyond your comprehension, the dealings of dragons. Besides, it matters not. This futile combat has attracted the attention of a large group of manhunters. They have crossed the border and will soon be here. Who will they be more interested in? A down, but still dangerous Spire dragon whom they have no quarrel with, or a group of upstart men? Manhunters. The clue is in the name.’

Broddor looked up at Roztov, squinting into the sun. ‘Roz? What is he saying?’

Roztov turned back into a man so he could speak to his friend.

‘Manhunters are coming. We should probably go warn the others.’

‘How does he know?’

‘I’m not sure, some dragon magic or something. Even if they are not, we should get out of here.’

‘What about him? Together we could slay him, don’t you think?’

The dragon snarled and said something in draconic.

‘What did he say now?’

Roztov sighed, ‘Well, now that I’m not a rock crawler I don’t know what he’s saying, but seeing as he can understand us it was probably something like “You know I can hear what you are saying, don’t you?” I think he’ll be no more danger anyway, now that he knows how tough we are, come on.’

They began to walk back towards where the others were camped.

‘Would it not be quicker to turn into a hippogriff and carry me lad?’

‘One second,’ said Roztov and turned into a sparrowhawk. Broddor watched as the small bird fluttered up into the air. He shielded his eyes so he could follow its progress.

‘What does he see?’ the dwarf wondered to himself as the sparrowhawk wheeled about.

Broddor arrived at the campsite riding a bear. The others stood up from where they had been variously arranged by the fire.

‘What news?’ asked Ghene as then dwarf leapt from the bear’s back.

‘Manhunters are on their way.’

‘Here?’

‘In truth I know not,’ he replied and looked around as Roztov turned back into a man.

‘Etruna, I’m tired from all this changing,’ said Roztov as he shock himself. He rubbed his eyes and slapped his cheeks, then continued. ‘Dozens of them, too many to fight. Possibly they were drawn down to see what all the commotion was with Broddor and Mordran, or maybe they were on their way anyway.’

‘Could they be in league with Mordran?’

‘I don’t know. Either way, we better pack up and get out of here.’

‘You can’t do another one of those land womb things my lord?’ asked Arrin.

‘I think we are better off just vacating the area. We use those things as a last resort generally.’

They talked as the packed up their meagre possessions, the things that they had taken with them from Moletown.

They headed north for a while, towards the chasm, hoping to find refuge in the Greenway, but after a few miles Ghene halted them and then came down the line to confer with the others.

‘We are surrounded, there are men and dragons everywhere, up ahead and also behind us, closing in.’

‘Right,’ said Roztov. ‘We should make a land womb then. One of us should stay on the surface to hide it. They can then turn into a deer or whatever and hide in a bush.’

‘Who?’ asked Meggelaine nervously.

‘It should be me,’ said Ghene. ‘I’m the best at that sort of thing. Get digging, Roz.’

An hour later a group of manhunters, men dressed in black plate armour with beast mask helmets passed through the area. Ghene, in the form of a small forest deer, watched from inside a bush. He had hidden the land womb well, where the earth had been disturbed was indistinguishable from any other part of the forest floor. The men passed over where the others were hiding without noticing and continued on their way. A few minutes later a dragon wove its way through the trees, twisting its body like a snake, with its wings held close to its body.

Ghene watched as it walked over the land womb and the stopped. It sniffed the air. Ghene held his breath and stood motionless, watching the dragon as it turned its head left and right. Finally it looked down at the ground then thumped the forest floor with its front feet, reminding Ghene rather of a dog going after a mouse.

It then looked up and roared. A few minutes later some of the armour men jogged into the area, not long followed by another dragon. Ghene found he was wracked with indecision, should he try and draw them off or wait to see what his friends did? It was not impossible that they would burrow deeper after all and since the men carried nothing other than swords and shields he wondered if the dragons would have the energy or inclination to dig up to thirty feet of earth out with their claws.

The dragons talked in draconic. The original dragon clawed at the ground, the other one did the same, then they talked some more.

Suddenly, much to the amazement of everyone, including Ghene, the ground seemed to erupt, throwing earth and tree roots everywhere. One of the dragons got tangled up in a falling tree while the other fell over on its back.

From the resulting hole in the ground a giant bee emerged, carrying Floran and Tankle. Buzzing loudly it flew straight up into the sky. Next came a small gryphon, carrying Ophess who was screaming her head off. Finally out of the hole emerged a long green dragon, carrying Broddor on its back. The dragon roared, unfolded its wings and beating up the earth into eye-clogging flurries, headed for the sky. As its back legs cleared the hole, Ghene saw that it held Salveri and Arrin in its back claws. Neither of them looked particularly happy.

Gathering his wits, Ghene turned into a hippogriff and followed them.

Once above the trees, Roztov transferred the terrified sailors onto Ghene’s broad back. They now flew north, a giant bee, a dragon, a hippogriff and a small gryphon, all with their riders, pursued by over twenty manhunters.

Floran drew his bee up beside the dragon and shouted over to it. ‘What’s the plan? Do we have a plan?’

‘Well, I have half an idea. Might be risky,’ Roztov answered in draconic.

‘I like the sound of it already!’ laughed Floran.

‘What did he say?’ gasped Tankle into Floran’s ear. She had her hands around his waist in a vice like grip.

‘Perhaps not so tight my dear,’ answered Floran with a strangled cough. ‘For now we just follow him.’

It was evening now, the sun was setting to their east, the clouds glowed blood red.

Bringing up the rear, Meggelaine was terrified, almost being driven insane with fear. She beat her wings as fast as she could and followed the others. As her veil of terror slowly lifted, it began to dawn on her that Roztov was heading directly to the chasm. She cried out, shrieking the shrill call of a youngling gryphon, but no one understood her. On her back Ophess was now silent, her eyes shut and her face buried into Meggelaine’s feathered neck.

Ahead of them was the hippogriff. Salveri held onto its mane and Arrin held onto Salveri. The hippogriff’s wings were wide and even with two men on its back it merely had to hold them out in the strong easterly wind to match the speed of the others.

‘At first I was scared,’ said Arrin. ‘But this is amazing.’

‘Well enjoy it then, because this might be the last thing we experience,’ grumbled Salveri. ‘There’s nowhere to go. They are going to get us eventually.’

‘Well, we seem to be heading for that big canyon over there.’

Salveri looked down over the hippogriff’s shoulder. ‘I see it. Isn’t that the place with all the dragons in it?’

‘I think so, I think...’

Arrin cut short what he was saying when they saw the dragon that was Roztov angle its wings into a steep downward glide, heading into the canyon. The bee, buzzing furiously, performed a less elegant manoeuvre and followed.

‘Hold on,’ gasped Salveri as the air was snatched from his lungs. The hippogriff folded its wings and plunged downwards, leaving them both with their stomach in their mouths.

Behind them, screeching and shrieking in protest, the gryphon angled its wings and followed.

Down in the canyon the Chasm Dragon’s day was coming to an end. Most of them were inside, but those that were still out on their porches or on the various ledges that acted as meeting places and thoroughfares saw an unfamiliar green dragon fly past at high speed, carrying a small armoured person on its back. This small person was wielding a sword above its head while yelling a very enthusiastic war cry. Behind it came a huge bee carrying two more people, just as swiftly as the dragon, closely followed by a winged horse and a winged lion, both also bearing riders.

Roughly half of the dragons that watched his high speed procession down the middle of the chasm did nothing, while the other half took to the air to give chase, only to meet the manhunters as they pursued the mounted humans. Chaos ensued.

Roztov looked under his wing, then over the wind said to Floran, ‘The manhunters are still behind us. I had rather hoped they would not dare to follow us into the chasm.’

Floran turned as far as he could, his cheek up against the side of Tankle’s head. After a moment he turned back and called to Roztov. ‘Oh well, never mind!’

Tankle risked a glance over her shoulder but could only see a tangled chaos of dragons.

‘I can’t see. How many dragons are chasing us, my lord?’

‘All of them, I think.’

The manhunters were ignoring the chasm dragons as best they could, and with the men on their backs blowing on hunting horns or whooping as loudly as they could, they redoubled their efforts to gain ground on their quarry.

For some time they continued along the chasm, dodging and weaving as more dragons joined the chase, heading north east, until they got to the fork that they had already scouted. Roztov took the right hand side, the eastern one.

It began to narrow, there were no chasm dragons living here, but they were still followed, by the manhunters and those of the chasm dragons that could still be bothered.

It was getting darker now, but the Spire could still be seen, black against the sun as it dipped below the horizon.

Roztov flew on, and finding an air current that blew up out of the chasm, he extended his wings and gained a thousand feet in a matter of moments. Broddor gasped and sheathed his sword so he could hold on tighter. The other followed, over the edge of the canyon and down across the snow covered forests on the other side.

They flew on, directly towards the spire. Roztov turned to Floran and said, ‘Do they follow us?’

Floran, his teeth chattering in the frigid wind managed to turn his head enough to check and then replied. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘I wondered if they would or not,’ said Roztov in the rumbling language of the dragons. ‘This is the Spire Dragon hunting range and the manhunters use it to cross, but perhaps they dare not enter the territory so openly.’

‘And yet we dare.’

‘And yet we dare,’ repeated Roztov. ‘It’s too dark to fly now. I think I see a good place to camp down there. Pass the word to the others, we are landing.’