Chapter 20 – The Mines (4458)

Chapter 20 – The Mines (4458)

In the following days, they did their best to stay out of sight, keeping to their rooms. It didn’t last long though, all of them were too curious about the city, its people, its food and its buildings to stay indoors for long. The war too, continued in the south of the city, and the druids went down to heal the injured behind the lines, using all their magic and only returning when they were spent, tired but satisfied they had at least saved some lives.

While the war went on the dragon’s hold on the people of the city loosened a little and the slaves and servants began to rebel against the gendarmes. The streets were growing chaotic, the dole carts were constantly being raided, which seemed odd to them as the food and drink was given away free anyway, and gangs of runways lurked in the side streets, looking for trouble.

‘The word on the street is that there was a rebellion in a southern quarter, the Stovologard dragons killed a hundred of their own people,’ said Meggelaine when they returned from some afternoon food shopping.

‘We should go down their again,’ said Roztov although he did not relish the thought. There was always more suffering than the three of them could handle.

‘Let’s eat first,’ said Meggelaine. ‘We’ll need our strength.’

‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ asked Arrin. ‘I’ve been feeling a bit useless these last couple of days.’ Tankle nodded her agreement.

‘I might have a job for you two later,’ said Meggelaine, who always like to have a secret.

‘Oh well, good then. It’s just that it’s so unjust. Broddor would have sorted them out,’ said Arrin with an angry tremor in his voice. ‘He’d soon sort out those dragons killing those people.’

They all knew Broddor was Arrin’s hero, so no one cast any doubt on his statement.

‘He was fearless, right enough,’ agreed Roztov.

‘And that armour, and his sword...’ continued Arrin with the enthusiasm of a teenager. ‘I only saw him fight Mordran that one time, but what a battle. I wish I had been there to see him fight that rune-keeper dragon. What a battle that must have been. And that time, when me and Salveri were fighting those manhunters with him in the forest, he was holding off all their spears, none of them could land a blow on him. Salveri... Well, they are both dead now...’

Roztov could see tears in Arrin’s eyes, glistening in the gloomy light from the cracked windows.

‘There will be some great tales told about Broddor, when we get back. That’s what he would have wanted. I’ll never forget how all this started, that dragon attacking the ship out of the mist, and Broddor thundering past me, across the deck and right along the bowsprit. He must have leapt ten feet in the air off that thing. Probably gave that dragon the scare of its life.’

Arrin laughed and wiped his nose. Roztov knew he was changing the tale, in truth Broddor had got no more than three steps along the bowsprit before falling, but what did that matter? He had still been attacking a dragon and in a dwarfish tale about the honoured dead it was the essence of the story, not the details, which mattered.

Roztov noticed that Meggelaine was weeping now too. ‘Broddor and Ophess, and Sal and all the others. Oh Roz... I’m going to boil the kettle.’

As Meggelaine went over to the fireplace Tankle tried to distract her little friend a little.

‘What was that language he spoke? He often said things like “Conusmig”,’ she asked. ‘It was like no dwarfish I ever heard.’

‘Oh it was dwarfish,’ laughed Meggelaine even as tears wetted her cheeks. ‘Or rather, dwarfish with a very strong Stykian accent. There have been fortress in the Vales for generations, I suppose their dialect has changed over the years. If he ever said anything in Stykian dwarfish, believe me, it isn’t repeatable.’

Meggelaine boiled the kettle and made tea for everyone, calming her emotions with this simple ritual.

When they had time, Roztov and Ghene would turn into rock lizards and skulk around in the building to eavesdrop on the residents. It appeared they were in no current danger of discovery, the conversations of the locals was primarily about the war, the street gangs and the availability of food. The people in their street all worked at the harbour. They sailors, stevedores, fishermen and the like, thin, but hardy, used to a tough life. Most of them were Sunda, but there were some Bullays and Yats,  and quite a few mixed-race people.  It seemed that they were safe enough, certainly while the gendarmes were struggling to keep control of the population.

‘They don’t seem to understand the concept of men living anywhere other than Tanud,’ remarked Roztov after one of their visits.

‘They are simple folk, by and large these city people,’ said Ghene. ‘Maybe out in the towns and villages the people are a bit less ignorant. Honni realised we were outlanders after all.’

 ‘Aye, he must have got it from somewhere,’ agreed Roztov. ‘In the city though, some people can rise higher than a mere servant certainly. Lady Fiewa for one, admittedly she’s a Spire spy, but she had my card marked straight away.’

‘True, she’s not the only one too, I’ll wager,’ mused Ghene.

‘I’ll have a wee sniff about for them, next time I’m there,’ said Roztov. ‘Delivering messages is a great way to get into people’s houses.’

 ‘I'm amazed you are still getting away with it,’ Meggelaine remarked from her place by the fire. ‘Right under their noses. What about those Rune-Keepers? Presumably if one gets close to you, they'll see a rock lizard transform into a man or elf?’

‘It’s fine,’ Roztov assured her. ‘We know what we’re doing.’

In truth though they had already had already some very close calls.

Roztov and Ghene went to the tower the next day and left to her own devices Meggelaine took Arrin and Tankle down to the harbour to look at the ships. It was not the first time.

‘So, what have we got today?’ she asked the sailors.

‘Little fishing boats as always,’ replied Arrin as they walked along the harbour wall in the fog. ‘There are colliers over there, but they are little better than lighters. I can see some sloops moored over there.’

‘Are they any use to us?’

‘No, it’s the same as last time, there is nothing oceangoing here.’

‘Drat it,’ said Meggelaine, snapping her fingers in irritation. ‘Look though.’

They were at the harbour mouth now, as far out as the wall went and lost in the fog. Sea spray occasionally lashed up from below and splattered their cloaks and faces. They could no longer see the city, they couldn’t even see the other side of the harbour mouth, but they could see an empty collier going out into the sea, a dark silhouette moving slowly through the fog.

‘It’s going somewhere, right enough,’ admitted Arrin.

‘And they come back laden with coal and hematite. I’m not a miner, but I know you don’t catch iron ore in fishing nets,’ said Tankle.

‘There must be another island,’ speculated Meggelaine. ‘Beyond the fog barrier. We should come back with Tup later and go out on one.’

As they walked back Arrin was deep in thought. ‘I saw something that looked a bit like a scow the other day. We should go out on one of them.’

‘Why?’

‘They will be going out further than the lighters. I mean, probably.’

It did not take Floran long, with a gold coin pressed into the captain’s hand, to arrange them passage on a large scow out beyond the harbour wall. There were only three sailors crewing the boat, but a further ten people, men and women, onboard who were presumably miners.

After an hour of sailing they left the fog barrier behind and all four of them felt a huge weight lift off their shoulders.

‘My word,’ exclaimed Floran. ‘When was the last time I saw the sky free of fog and smoke?’

Meggelaine closed her eyes and held her face up to the sun. ‘It’s glorious.’

‘Look yonder!’ cried Arrin pointing out over the clear blue sea.

Ahead of them were dozens of tall towers, sticking straight out of the sea, each bigger than a tenement block.

‘What are they?’ gasped Tankle.

Floran asked the captain, and then translated the reply. ‘They are the mines. They are offshore mines, apparently.’

As they got closer, they began to appreciate the scale of the things. They were broad and tall, with flat tops and wooden ladders that led up to doorways usually one or two stories up. There were cranes too, further up that were used to load the colliers. The captains sailed the scow past the first of the towers, evidently going to one further out. They watched the towers go past, seeing them close up they could see they were made from dark red bricks, patched and repairs with yellow mortar.

When the scow arrived at its destination, they all climbed up a ladder and into what appeared to be an administration room.

‘This man is wondering why we are here,’ said Floran, gesturing to a confused looking old man. ‘I think he is the foreman of this tower.’

‘Just give him a gold coin,’ said Meggelaine as she looked up. There was a central well that coal was being drawn up in baskets. She could hear a capstan being turned somewhere and could smell oxen or something, but couldn’t see any.

‘Ask him how they turn the capstan, Tup,’ she said. ‘They can’t be using vegetains, they are too lazy.’

Floran asked the question, and the recently bribed foreman, smiled, bowed and led them up a series of ladders to a room full of gears and pulleys with a large capstan in the middle of it.

Meggelaine gasped in horror as she saw that the huge wooden wheel was being pulled by two chained dragons. They had no claws or wings and their jaws were bound shut with irons. They looked weak and emaciated, and whenever one faltered, a man with a whip struck them on the back.

Floran was equally dismayed at such a sight, but translated what the foreman told him. ‘These are chasm dragons, captured in previous wars. They are sent here as punishment. They have their claws and wings removed to stop them escaping and their mouths bound shut to stop them breathing fire.’

‘How do they feed them?’

‘Oh dear,’ said Floran once he had received the answer from the foreman who was gesturing at the side of the dragons’ heads. ‘They have cut a hole in the side of their cheeks and they feed them slops through it.’

‘This is horrible. Please let’s go,’ said Meggelaine. ‘Can he take us to the top?’

Using ladders they moved up the tower, sometimes moving through areas that were used as sleeping quarters. ‘Apparently they live out here for years at a time,’ explained Floran.

The top of the tower was flat covered in wooden beams covered in tar. A few miners, presumably on a break, were also here, enjoying the fresh air. In the distance a dragon wheeled around, high in the sky away from the island. Floran spoke to the foreman then reported to the others.

‘He’s no idea what that dragon is doing, maybe hunting for dolphins. He seems to think we are auditors sent from the city. I wonder why the chasm dragons don’t attack these towers, they look like easy targets to me. This old man has no idea about that either. Still, what a view.’

‘It’s incredible,’ admitted Meggelaine as she wandered around the edge of the tower, taking in the panorama. ‘Dozens of towers just like this one. How many bricks I wonder? Oh look over there.’

She pointed to where a tower had collapsed, some way off, and around it were dozens of ship wrecks, piled up against the rubble.

‘What’s all that lot, Tup?’

Floran asked the foreman then explained, ‘It is as it appears. That tower collapsed a long time ago, a hundred years ago he says. Now it is used as a ship’s graveyard. They pillage it for spares when required.’

Both Tankle and Arrin were shielding their eyes and squinting at the wrecks and continued to do so when Meggelaine and Floran wandered off to the other side of the tower.

‘Notice how she acts when Roztov and Ghene are not around,’ remarked Tankle. ‘She acts like a child when in their company, but now look at her, ordering the men about.’

Arrin laughed. ‘Yes, she’s a character. Do you see anything interesting in that lot?’

‘Piles of junk. I think I see the masts of a caravel on the other side of the tower. It must be an antique.’

‘Even so, an oceangoing vessel. I wonder how it got here.’

When they reported this to Meggelaine she ordered the captain of their collier to detour around the collapsed tower on the way back.

‘He says it’s not safe,’ said Floran.

She looked at Arrin. ‘It’s safe enough,’ he said, ‘if he keeps wide of the wrecks. We are laden down with coal, but the wind is with us.’

‘Give him another gold, Tup and tell him to get on with it,’ she said testily.

The captain made some token objections, but the gold was a convincing argument and besides, he didn’t like the look in the eyes of the little girl that was giving out all the orders.

As they passed the far side of the graveyard, Arrin and Tankle were able to get a good look at the wrecked caravel.

‘It would have been a fine enough ship in its day,’ remarked Tankle. ‘It’s like an Elbonian trader, but from a hundred years ago.’

‘Shame about the big hole in her hull though,’ said Arrin with a sigh.

‘It was oceangoing though?’ asked Meggelaine. ‘We could get away in it?’

‘Well, there are no sails. One of the masts is broken and there is that big hole...’ said Arrin.

‘Yes, yes, but if all that was fixed?’

‘She’d get us home for sure,’ said Arrin with certainty. Tankle nodded in agreement.

‘Don’t worry about the hole and the mast. Druid magic can fix that. The sails are more of a problem though. Oh, and a crew I suppose. How many would we need?’

‘Twenty, maybe twenty-five,’ answered Arrin.

Meggelaine then went over to the other side of the ship to talk to the captain, using Floran to interpret her questions.

‘Do you think she’s trying to hire a crew?’ asked Tankle. ‘I don’t see how.’

‘I’ve no idea. Maybe Roztov could summon some... um... monkeys or something.’

Tankle made a ‘pff’ noise with her lips.

‘Yes,’ agreed Arrin. ‘We’d need proper sailors, I’m not sure about these fellows, they seem sturdy enough, but these scows and lighters will have never been sailed beyond the mines.’

‘We’re the last of the Red Maiden. We’ll get of this island somehow,’ said Tankle with determination. Arrin, thinking about it just now, realised he had never doubted it until the death of Broddor. Now he wasn’t so sure.

At the harbour, they disembarked from the collier and went to get a drink at one of the quayside taverns. They sat in the late afternoon sun, a stiff sea breeze blowing the smoke from the tower out over their heads.

Floran went to do some shopping and left Meggelaine with the sailors to continue talking over nautical matters. After a short while Tankle, who was sat facing the other two, noticed a commotion down at where the collier had been moored.

‘Here comes trouble.’

The collier captain was leading a group of gendarmes towards them. He pointed to where they were sat and with animated hand gestures bid the armed men follow him.

‘Typical,’ said Meggelaine. ‘Just when Floran’s not here to translate. Let’s just see what they do. If it all kicks off, I’ll do... something.’

One of the gendarmes addressed himself to Arrin, ignoring the two women. Arrin had picked up a few words of draconic from being on Tanud. ‘Me, village man, run dragons,’ he said, gesturing towards the unseen mountains, trying to imply they were refugees.

The gendarme pointed at Tankle and Meggelaine and told them to pull back their hoods.

‘Wife,’ said Arrin nervously. ‘Daughter.’

The gendarme, a man in his forties smiled and tickled Meggelaine under the chin. She faked a childish laugh.

‘Wait,’ said the gendarme. They waited ten minutes, then a large black dragon bearing a blue stone around its neck landed and waddled towards them. All three of them were terrified by this huge dark beast, but stood as still as they could as it shone its stone on them and when nothing happened it snarled and took off again. The gendarme turned to the collier captain and cuffed him hard around the back of the head and then walked off, gesturing his men to follow him.

The captain gave them a dazed look then ran back to where his ship was moored.

‘What did they expect? We were a bunch of dragons in disguise? What a nerve after all that gold we gave him. Call the watch on us, eh?’ growled Meggelaine. ‘I’m going to teach that fellow a lesson he won’t forget.’

She hopped down from her chair, adjusted her belt and stormed after the captain.

‘In the name of Blimaron,’ gasped Tankle. ‘What do we do?’

‘We’d better follow her.’

‘Should we do something?’

Arrin gave a couple of notes of script to the waiter, settling the bill and set off after the torm. ‘If the captain goes for her, you grab her and run for it. I’ll punch him on the nose.’

Meggelaine, walking quickly, had reached the moored collier and was facing down the captain. Arrin and Tankle arrived behind her, but stood a few steps back. They respected Meggelaine too much incur her wrath by stopping her giving the captain a piece of her mind.

‘Give me the gold back, you hooligan!’ demanded Meggelaine, waving her finger at him. She then pointed at the palm of her hand. ‘Gold? See? You idiot. Stop smiling at me.’

The captain laughed, but then stopped when he realised he was beginning to draw a crowd. Meggelaine continued to scold him in a language he didn’t understand and not wanting to seem a laughing stock in front of his fellow sailors he decided to do something very foolish and pushed Meggelaine to the cobblestones. Meggelaine squealed, and then raised her right hand. A blast of magical wind knocked the captain from his feet and he too landed on the cobbles. Meggelaine stood up and as some of the ship’s crew rushed at her, she blasted them away with a magical wind too, sending them rolling back, tumbling head over heels, half of them falling off the quayside and landing in the sea, yelling and screaming.

‘I’ll show you,’ snarled Meggelaine, raising both hands. ‘You dirty rotter!’

She lunged at the captain, making him clamber backwards on his rear end. Meggelaine then went over to the collier and with a sweep of her hands, magically caused a large dip in the water that the ship rolled into, spilling the cargo that had not been taken off it yet to spill into the sea. With gurgling groans the ship sunk, pulling its rope off the mooring post with a twang.

With a sweep of her hand, a strong wind blew the captain off the quayside and out into the harbour where it deposited him a hundred yards away. When near the sea, a druid’s ability to control the wind was strong.

‘I hope he can swim,’ gasped Arrin.

Tankle found her mouth was hanging open as Meggelaine turned to them and said, ‘let’s go.’

Meggelaine summoned up a thick mist to hide their retreat from the harbour, with hood up and heads down they returned to their apartment.

Once she’d had a nice cup of tea and her anger had subsided, Meggelaine was remorseful.

‘What have I done? Maybe he genuinely thought we were chasm dragons in disguise. That ship would have been his livelihood. What if his family starves now?’

‘Meg, what are you talking about? You kicked arse back there, it was amazing!’ gushed Tankle.

‘Aye, don’t worry about that old tosspot,’ agreed Arrin. ‘The boats all belong to the dragons anyway, remember? This isn’t like back home. Even back home, generally the captain doesn’t own the ship. Well, our captain owned the Red Maiden, but that’s not always the case.’

‘Oh, well...’ sighed Meggelaine, warming her hands on the tea cup.

‘That was amazing Meg,’ said Tankle who still could not get over how the small torm had thrown back all those men then sunk a ship.

‘Yes,’ agreed Arrin. ‘Hey, who do you think would win in a fight? A druid or a wizard?’

‘Oh well, even so,’ said Tankle with an apologetic bow to Meggelaine, ‘I think a wizard.’

‘You’re just saying that because you’re in love with Tuppence!’ joked Arrin.

Meggelaine snorted with laughter at Arrin’s remark. Floran and Tankle were not making any effort to hide their relationship anymore though as they spent each night downstairs in the big double bed.

‘A wizard would kill a druid instantly with a fireball,’ Tankle argued.

‘A druid would change into a bear, or a dragon, shrug off the fireball and rip the wizard’s head off.’

Arrin made wild gestures with his hands in an attempt to illustrate his point.

‘Only Roztov can be a dragon,’ said Tankle.

 Meggelaine finished her tea and started preparing the evening meal. The friendly argument continued until Floran returned, and not long after him, Roztov and Ghene.

‘Well, actually, me and Floran did fight once,’ said Roztov, having overheard some of it.

Tankle and Arrin gasped simultaneously.

‘We’d been captured by Nog pirates, north of Fiarka, on our return from Joppa. They thought it amusing to make their captives fight each other.’

‘Who won?’ asked Tankle.

‘Well, I think I won,’ said Roztov with a smile towards Floran, ‘I tied him down with roots then beset him with a swarm of stinging insects.’

‘Bah,’ grunted Floran. ‘I remember that. I was holding back though.’

‘Hardly,’ said Roztov holding up his hands. ‘You set fire to me!’

 ‘Yes, yes,’ interrupted Meggelaine. ‘I’ve heard this pissing contest discussed quite a few times before, it never leads anywhere good.’

‘But how did you escape the pirates?’ asked Arrin.

‘Yes, how did we escape?’ wondered Roztov, pulling on his beard. ‘I think it involved Broddor doing something stupid. That was probably it.’

As they ate together they went on to tell each other how their days had been. Roztov and Ghene agreed that the caravel out at the mines sounded interesting.

‘If Floran can translate for me, I think I can find sails and a crew. You pair of fools finish up your tower nonsense and we can be on our way.’

‘Not long now, Em,’ said Roztov. ‘In truth, part of me will be sad to leave. There is so much to learn here. We know more about dragons now than anyone back in Nillamandor I’ll warrant. Here, the dragons are aggressive by nature, more so than men, but they do not universally mistreat their human thralls and servants. Just as a man may be kind to his horses and hounds, another man may be cruel. So it is with dragons. Even a kind man, when he has no use for an old horse, will most likely kill it.’

‘Men are not animals,’ Floran commented.

‘Of course yes, but that is what we are to them. The people of the Stovologard have no more rights than the rock lizards.’

Once the dinner things had been cleared away they brought out the cards and Roztov, Floran, Ghene and Meggelaine played a few hands of the four player game they had learned while living in the city.

‘I think I’ve worked out why the tenements are half empty,’ said Roztov. ‘They don’t write down human history here, but the dragons are long lived and I hear them talk. Stovologard was once much more populated than it was, but two hundred years ago there was a very big war and half the population were killed.’

‘There must be some racial memories about it though,’ said Floran. ‘The top floors of tenements are considered bad luck to live in. As are the bottom floors. The middle floors are considered the best bet.  This may be because they are safest from dragon attack.’

‘I have heard stories of population purges too,’ put in Ghene. ‘The dragons keep down the human population the same as men do with rabbits.’

‘Oh don’t,’ shuddered Meggelaine. ‘I don’t want to hear about it. Stop finding out about miserable things. Has anyone found out where the chocolate comes from?’

Roztov gave her a smile and tried to ruffle her hair, but she ducked out of the way with a growl.

‘I’m going back to see Lorkuvan in a couple of days,’ he said. ‘I’ll ask her about it then.’

Roztov did indeed return to speak to Lorkuvan on the day she had told him to come to her.

‘There will be a diet,’ she told him. ‘Blavius will meet Primus. There will be a delegation from the Spire. I will be there as a diplomat to the Chasm. You can be there as my advisor.’

‘Can I bring a friend?’

‘If you must. They apparently want to talk about the terms of a cease fire. It is usual sort of thing. It will hold for a few months, a year or two maybe, then it will all flare up again.’

‘When is it?’

‘Come again in three days. Then stay here, it will be on the third day, or the day after.’

At lunch, in the long, gloomy servants hall Roztov and Ghene went over their plans, sat as far away from the other men as they could.

‘It’s probably best to lie low from now until this diet. We have enough food back at the apartment. We should just shut the door and keep our heads down.’

Roztov was already getting nervous and fidgety about it. 'It will kick off, I just know it. Something really big and bad is going to happen and we'll be right in the middle of it.'

(G372 06/10/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA47

(G372 06/10/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA47

DAY 409 (17th Tarsakh)(April) cont...

And so we left the cavern and continued to follow the trail left by the troglodyte army. We arrived at a much smaller cavern that had a total of eight tunnels leading into it.

There was a door in one corner and a gravestone in the other. On the stone were strange runes, but Fenrir could translate them and told us that they said;

''
Posterity will ne’er survey
a Nobler grave than this:
Here lie the bones of Cassleray:
Stop, traveller, and piss!
''

Well, I wasn't going to, but Fenrir did. He said he felt a shiver run down his spine when he did so as some minor magical benefit was bestowed on him.

The door, meanwhile, was made from ironbound rock slabs. There was a hatch in it, but Fenrir used his ring of Knock. I listened at the door and could here something lurking within, so instead of just barging in Fenrir knocked.

The hatch opened and a crude earthen face looked at us, blinking in the light of our lanterns. 'Overworlders is it?' he said in Undercommon. 'What do you want?'

Well, it turned out this was an inn called the 'Eight Ways'. The man at the door was actually a 'slyth', a fairly gentle race native to the Underdark. He was the doorman, the place was run by an elderly dark elf couple. They didn't get much pass through trade, but today it was quite 'busy' apparently as there was another man in the common room and a group of five dwarves.

We got some drinks and sat at a table. Fenrir, smooth tongued as ever went and talked to the man and learned he was called 'Veets the Spelunker'. He looked a rugged sort and Fenrir detected a lot of magic on him. This area of the Underdark we were in at the moment was called the 'Darklands' he told us and he was exploring the area for his own reasons. I think he was mapping out the entire Underdark for his own amusement.

The dwarves were suspicious of us to begin with. They were on a mission from their town somewhere above this area called 'Boatmurdered'. They were looking for another group of dwarves that had gone missing while escorting a hunting party of men that had come down from the surface.

Fenrir talked with Veets some more, then hired him to take us to the troglodyte city. It was a few hours away, through one of the tunnels at 'Eight Ways'.

It took a few gold coins to get past the gate and into the Foreign Quarter. Here I should explain a little of where we now were. The troglodyte city was called 'The Pool of Organs' or just 'Pool' for short. The troglodytes of this city were called 'Pudlians'. The city was organised into seven districts, six for each of the Pudlian tribes and one at the entrance were non-Pudlians were allowed to come to trade. They distrusted all other races, but especially other lizard races and any other non-Pudlian troglodyte was killed on sight.

The smell in the Foreign Quarter was so bad that it made Veddic bring up his lunch. It was a haphazard and chaotic place, with the troglodyte warriors that guarded the main entrance the nearest thing to a town watch. They were only interested in squeezing coins out of visitors though and shining strange red and blue lamps in peoples faces for reasons I am still not clear on.

The Quarter was not overly large, no more than fifty buildings and it only took half an hour to see it all. A dark, gloomy, stinking place full of filth and strange looking Underdark races. I saw my first Derro, Koa-toa and Grimlock!
Unpleasant as most of it is, it's utterly fascinating!

The biggest building was up the back, it seemed to act as some kind of town hall where people could also sleep if they wanted to. I saw one or two more Slyths and some Duergar. I was happy to let Fenrir take the lead on this adventure as he knew more about what was going on than I did. This gave me lots of time to take in the architecture (this place is built on the ruins of... something) and talk to the natives.

Fenrir found a duergar lady called Brilmara who was willing and capable of talking to him although she was very grumpy. For a small fee she led us to a side cave where we could stay the night.

Veets was still with us and he was happy to join us for our evening meal (from Fenrir's magical supply box). Fenrir told him about what had happened in Westgate, the attack on the city and his mission, but Veets didn't really seem that interested. I don't think he has had much to do with the Overworld in years.

I was on watch when Fenrir went back out again late in the evening. Something must have been keeping him awake. He told me later he went to talk to Brilmara again and ask who was in charge of the Foreign Quarter.
In reply she had said;
'No one. It's anarchy here, chaos reigns in the FQ. The merchants that come here are usually pretty tough, as for people like me, we come in groups for safety, conduct our business and leave as quickly as possible.'

DAY 410 (18th Tarsakh)(April)

It has been a very interesting day of wandering around in the Underdark. Every new cave and tunnel is of great interest to me. It has been nice to let someone else lead the way for a while. This is Fenrir's quest so I've mainly been just letting him get on with it.

So, there are several tunnels that lead from the FQ, each one going to one of the tribal districts. They are guarded by dozens of arrogant and annoying troglodyte warriors.

We went to the nearest one. The tunnel was covered by a large iron portcullis with a pack of troglodytes lounging around in front of it.
'What do you want, toplander?' the said with cheeky laughs.
Fenrir could understand them with his magical helmet but could not answer back in the same language - Undercommon.
They merely laughed at his gestures and told him that he had a face that made them laugh. They shone those strange lamps on us, but seemed to be content with whatever it was that they saw.

As this was pointless we found a slyth who was willing to act as a translator and returned. His name was Drypp, he seemed a calm and gentle enough soul and was happy to act as a translator in return for food.

Back at the gate, Fenrir turned on the charm and tossed the guards a couple of gold coins. They still would not let us in, but one of them said this:

''
A few months ago one of the sacred beasts that we worship was killed by surface dwellers.  Trophy hunters I heard, or maybe they were after the magic that's in 'em, I dunno. A band  of dwarves and humans, the priests caught and killed most of 'em, but they got three or four  still, in their dungeons. Waiting for the best day to kill 'em. Probably on Pool Night,  big festival. In about eight days. They've probably got something horrible planned for 'em.
''

Fenrir decided after that he'd had enough of this smelly place and we all returned to the Eight Ways. Veets had already left by that stage so it took us about five hours of travel. We took Drypp with us, who loved the food that came from the magical ration box.

The dwarves were still there, so Fenrir talked to them some more. He then talked to Veets, and hired him to help us get into the tunnels and dungeons under the city.

In the afternoon Veets lead us down to a series of tunnels then used his magical pick axe to cast 'Stone Shape' multiple times and opened up another tunnel that he'd evidently dug a few days ago. It lead all the way to the Pool dungeons.

The tunnel led is through a lovely chasm as well. Veets had built a bridge over it and we stopped to admire the view. It was dark of course, but our lanterns illuminated a fair bit of it. Drypp was impressed too. I am learning about the slyth from him. Apparently they are peaceful folk, and consider themselves to be the caretakers of the Underdark. It is common for them to become druids and care for the nature that exists down here. I found myself getting along with him very well.

It was hard to tell, by now, what time of day it was, but I venture it was around midnight when we finally reached the end of Veets tunnel. Again he used his magic pick to Stone Shape the rest of the way and as he opened up an entrance to the dungeon for us he said;
'This is it, the Dungeons of Pool.'

(G371 29/09/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA46

(G371 29/09/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA46

DAY 404 (12th Tarsakh)(April) cont...

Fenrir was somewhat nonplussed by the demand to try and find a date at such short notice. He thought about finding some random woman in an expensive inn but Random pointed out that while rich ladies may go to such places the best kind never left their homes without an escort and would rarely go to such places in the evening or talk to strange men.
'Well what then?' said Fenrir angrily. 'I can see you have an idea of who, why don't you just tell me?'
Random liked to watch Fenrir think these things through himself though, something that infuriated Fenrir. Eventually Random said, 'I can think of four options off the top of my head...'
'Oh, I suppose there is Gelly.'
'That's the right idea, but aim higher.'
Fenrir clicked his fingers, 'Lavinia! She's a lady, and she's in that ship over there!'
'I was going to say Wayney or Sylvia, but yes, borrowing another man's wife is even better!'

He went over to visit his friends on the boat and asked Lavinia to be his date. She was flustered, but agreed. They then went over to Westgate by boat - along with me of course! I'd heard the stories from Corum and I was somewhat apprehensive about leaving him alone with my misses.

We went to Fenrir's house and spent the night. It was very late by the time we went to bed as we had a lot of catching up to do.

It's funny, dear reader, that although I have chronicled a great deal of the adventures of this conflicted fellow I had never spent much time with him, our paths always crossing like ships in the night.
I think that my opinion of him is much the same as my brothers - unpredictabl but powerful, usually on the side of good - except when he isn't. His only true constants are avarice and lechery, although there is generosity and kindness in him somewhere. He has the blood of hundreds on his hands, but he hides it well.

DAY 405 (13th Tarsakh)(April)

Fenrir went to work, while me and my wife found her a gown for the ball tonight.

Apparently another fellow turned up to join the watch today. A young nobleman who had invested in a magic carpet and wanted to join up. Fenrir had his doubts about him, but took him on anyway. His name was Surkan.

I spent the evening playing cards with Gelly and drinking the most expensive booze in Fenrir's cellar that I could find. When he and my wife returned they told me how their evening went.

Lady Gwendeth Thalavar was in her seventies, but still had a flamboyant  reputation. She still threw balls, dances and games nights. Fenrir turned on the charm and learned she had been a lady of influence in the city for no less than 55 years. She, gave the impression at least, of knowing everyone and knowing everyone's secrets.

Fenrir also met her son, a man called Derrion Thalavar, who was in his forties, but still lived like a much younger man. He had a reputation  as a gambler, a whoremonger and a drinker. He had his own private club somewhere in the city and he extended and invite to Fenrir who he was sure would 'fit right in.'

Finally he met Tellaura Thalavar, Gwendeth's daughter, who was a  scholar and very intelligent. She marked Fenrir's card straight away but none the less extended an invitation to her book club.

Fenrir also worked the room and danced with Lavinia. It was a civilised affair though and wound down around two in the morning.


DAY 406 (14th Tarsakh)(April)

Fenrir went to work today. His squad was:

Relleme, Nors, Marrock, Oloe, and now Surkan

Trepplemar had a mission for him. To follow the troglodytes trail to their city and find out everything that he could. He asked for some funds and was given 2000 gold.

He then went to Gondeth's Magery and purchased some items he thought would come in handy - a want of cure light wounds, a ring of Comprehend Languages and a pair of Boots of Survival.

In the evening he sparred with his guards, hoping to shed a few pounds.

Myself and Lavinia went to bed early.

DAY 407 (15th Tarsakh)(April)

Today the Day Air Watch was; Fen, Relleme, Nors, Marrock, Oloe and Surkan

They saw someone riding a giant owl. Fenrir initially thought it was me, but on closer inspection it was a dwarf on the owl. He was too fast for them  to catch though.

In the evening three cards arrived for Fenrir, from Lady Gwendeth Thalavar, her son and her daughter.
He decided to do the sensible thing and go to the old ladies gaming night.

On his return he reported that it was pretty dull as they had just gambled for coppers. They all drank sweet sherry and smelled of lavender, but he  hoped he had began the process of gaining influence.
There had been a few other young ones, but they had all been equally bored and there for the same reason as Fenrir.


DAY 408 (16th Tarsakh)(April)

Today Fenrir was ordered to begin his mission to find the city of the Troglodytes. He decided to take Veddic and me, Rollo.

Lavinia would have come, but Fenrir decided it was best that she didn't and besides, Random wanted to send her to Cormyr on a mission of her own.

Serten, the young druid of the city watch, led us to where the entrance to the Underdark was. It was forty miles south of the city, in the coastal mountains, but since we were all flying it only took about ten hours.

Nobody lived up there, it was too wild and full of monsters. The fissure in the rock face looked new, no more than five years old and there were clear signs of troglodyte tracks coming out of it.

We camped there that night, resolving to venture inside the next morning.


DAY 409 (17th Tarsakh)(April)

Serten stayed at the entrance, he had no desire to visit the Underdark and although I couldn't blame him, I myself could not wait!

I had heard all Fenrir's stories about Pedestal and his adventures down there and I had already purchased new notebooks, pens and sample jars especially for this expedition. It couldn't be any more dangerous than the Plane of Shadows surely? And I'd survived that.

Anyway, here is the start of my 'Underdark Adventure':

Today I estimate we have come three miles down. We are now at the interface between the 'Upperdark' and the 'Middledark' although in truth all we have seen is endless caves and fissures. There have been many turnings, but the trail of the troglodyte army has been easy to follow. I estimated 5,000 of them passed this way.

Around lunchtime we entered a large cavern of giant mushrooms. Snails the size of cats grazed on other smaller fungus.

We noticed a troglodyte savage up on a high ledge and Fenrir went up to talk to him. He bribed the creature with gold to tell us what he knew about the city and the sacred beasts.

Here is what was learned:
- The city is called 'The Pool of Organs' or just 'Pool'
- It is home to six tribes of troglodytes.
- There are seven 'quarters' one for each tribe and one known as the
  'Foreign Quarter' where non-troglodyte people are allowed. This doesn't  mean that you might not get eaten though.
- The troglodytes of Pool kill any other non-Pudlian troglodytes on sight.
- They worshiped the god Laogzed.
- He knew nothing about the sacred beasts, only that they were in a cavern called the 'Mouth of Doom' and that the Pool troglodytes guarded it jealously
 
With this new information, we continued on our way, following the trail. 

(G370 22/09/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA45

(G370 22/09/2018 via Roll20 - AP, JF(GM)) WA45

DAY 401 (9th Tarsakh)(April) cont ...

[And so, dear, indulgent reader, I have just about gathered up the two threads of my story now, for as I was sailing west on the Sea Wyvern with my good lady wife, Fenrir and his companions in the Day Air Watch of Westgate were fighting an invasion force that seemingly come from nowhere, but would have repercussions for all of us we could at this stage not guess at. To continue...]

Fenrir, Relleme, Nors and Marrock bravely flew forward of the wall to meet the attack. They counted thirty or more flying troglodytes.

Fenrir used his eldritch blast while the others used crossbows. Marrock, not well used to fighting from the back of a magic carpet very nearly fell off it on his first shot! But he regained his footing and survived a fall that would have killed him.

Fenrir was doing the most damage, sometimes killing two or even three with his chained shots. Relleme finish off a couple with her crossbow and even killed another when the battle moved into melee range.

Fenrir managed to kill seven troglodytes in one blast! But his strategy was wrong, he was concentrating on the cannon fodder that were attacking Nors and himself in melee and largely ignoring the wizards at the back who were hitting them all again and again with magic missiles, acid arrows and other long range magic attack spells.

Realising this, he started to target the wizards, but this allowed a handful of the attackers to swarm past Marrock and Relleme and enter the city.

With no great desire to pursue them and with the idea of gold in his mind he ordered his squad down into the fields before the wall to gather up the dead and to search them for loot.

As they were doing that someone up on the wall shouted down at them. 'What the hell are you doing down there? The city is under attack, man the walls, man the gates!'

Fenrir, flew his squad to the south gate and helped mop up the stragglers from the doomed attack there. He then helped search the city for any that had managed to get in, so it was several hours before he managed to get back to his loot.

There were a few scavengers from the city, but they chased them away and still managed to get away with a reasonable amount of treasure.

It was ten in the evening when Trepplemar let them go home.
'Good job fighting off the fliers,' she said. 'But next time, be more situationaly aware. The whole city was under attack, not just the wall you happened to be on when it started.'


DAY 402 (10th Tarsakh)(April) 

Today the Air Watch was Fenrir, Relleme, Nors, Marrock and Oloe.

Trepplemar told him there would be a big meeting the next day in regards to the attack of the day before.

That evening Fenrir took some exercise, sparring with the guards at his house.


DAY 403 (11th Tarsakh)(April) 

[Note : Fenrir was unaware of it, but today the Sea Wyvern arrived at Spectre Island.]

There was an extraordinary meeting of the city bigwigs today. This included the Croamarkh himself, Hammersong the leader of the watch, leaders of the guilds and mercenary guilds and of course Trepplemar and Fenrir. It took place at the Market Tower.

Dreydal Trant was the current Croamarkh, elected - if you could call it that - by a corrupt set of merchants and nobles to run the city. He was arrogant, stupid and vain and a willing cats paw for those that really ran the place, from what I gathered from talking to Random about it.

Well, needless to say, Trant was very angry and blamed everyone but himself. Why did the city have no warning? Where did the attack come from? What happened with the early warning systems that were meant to be in place?

The truth was, the defence of the city was a shambles. The mercenary army was there if it was ever needed, but mostly they sat around in their barracks drinking heavily, whoring and gambling. Westgate had a long standing policy of not patrolling beyond its walls, and the only advance warning came from the marshall service that had placed eight members of Westgate law enforcement in the surrounding villages.
And that was it. Not only that, but recently the job of managing the marshals had been put into the purview of the magical arm of the city watch. Something signed off by the Croamarkh and that everyone was too afraid to point out to him.

The only person he had a good word to say about was Fenrir.
'This is my guy,' he said. 'Killed dozens of them all by himself. You're my guy right?'
'I'm here to serve...' answered Fenrir somewhat evasively.

Hammersong and Trepplemar seemed to get most of the blame placed at their feet. After the meeting, Trepplemar dryly observed, 'well you made a friend today anyway.'

It was nearly midnight by the time Fenrir got home.

DAY 404 (12th Tarsakh)(April)

When he arrived at work this morning Trepplemar told him to put Relleme in charge of the Air Watch as she had another job for him.

'You're a charmer, go down to the cells and interrogate two captured troglodytes,' she ordered him.

When he got there, a wizard of the watch tried a charm spell on the first prisoner but it failed to take effect. The creature had then been locked in an iron cage. It was the only one that spoke common.

Fenrir tried to talk it round, at first being friendly and then being threatening. The troglodyte seemed indifferent to both. Forgetting that he hadn't actually asked it any questions he wasted two hours getting a scroll of Comprehend Languages sent down so he could talk to the second one.

When he finally realised that both of them were quite happy to answer his questions anyway, he learned the following:

At some point previously, probably a month or two ago, down in the Underdark a 'sacred beast' was killed by hunters from the Overworld. This had enraged the priests of the city that the troglodytes had come from. The priests gathered together a force of warriors and volunteers to go up to the Overworld and wage holy war on the infidels of Westgate.

Both troglodytes were perfectly happy that they had done their duty to their gods and that now whatever happened to them they were sure to get straight to the top table in troglodyte heaven.

They were a bit vague on everything else, simply because they didn't know. They could not tell him exactly what the sacred beasts looked like and as the Overworld was very confusing to them they had virtually no idea where they had come from and since they had no idea of things like 'days', 'nights' and 'numbers' they could not tell him how long they had taken to get to Westgate either!
'So, the great big fiery horror in the sky that comes and goes, what's that? Is that a day or a number?' asked one.
Fenrir decided he heard enough and went back to report to Trepplemar.

In the evening he flew over to Spectre Island and talked to Random. He asked what was known about his reputation as Fenrir Thunderstaff in Waterdeep and as Raziel Lightningrod in Westgate. As a bard Random collected lots of knowledge about lots of things and in his opinion both names were 'checkered' in that there was good and also bad things known about them. He ventured that neither reputation would be enhanced or damaged by any revelation that the two names were the same person. He thought it better though, to maintain as many aliases as he could, in the interests of safety in their current endeavour. Random confessed to having seventeen aliases himself!

He head also heard a story about a new entrance to the Underdark that opened up a few years ago in the mountains to the south. It was from there that the troglodytes probably came from.

He also mentioned that the Sea Wyvern was anchored nearby.

'One last thing, old boy, Lady Gwendeth Thalavar is having a ball tomorrow night. I'll get you an invite, you get yourself a partner to take - and not some tart, bring a proper posh lady!'

Chapter 19 - The Diet of Dragons (5429)

Chapter 19 - The Diet of Dragons (5429)

Meggelaine, realised somewhere in her confused and anxious mind that if she spent all her time healing the sick and wounded of this part of Stovologard it would likely draw the attention of the gendarmes and get them into another confrontation. Not only that, but she would lose herself in it. Ghene and the other druids of the council would sometimes tell a jokey little story about her that went roughly along these lines;

One day Meggelaine went walking in the forest and came across a bird with an injured wing. She healed the bird and let it fly away. Later on she found another one and did the same. She then realised that there were probably other injured birds in the forest and began to seek them out. Soon she was living in the forest, doing nothing else but finding and healing injured birds.

The point of the story was, of course, that it was easy to get distracted by trivial things when there was more important activities for a powerful druid to be doing, and besides, nature had a way of taking care of itself. Even so, torms were famously kind to animals and she knew one or two that did indeed dedicate their lives to the care and protection of all manner of creatures. Great as the suffering was in Stovologard, there was suffering everywhere. Roztov and Ghene would tell her, painful as it was, there were more important things to be doing. She found it difficult to think like that though.

She was not the sort of person to be worried by the nagging of the likes of Roztov and Ghene. Quite the reverse, she worried over them like she was the mother of wayward children and she was all the more worried now, after the death of Broddor. They were a pair of fools, overconfident from the power that Etruna had granted them. They were playing with fire, going to the tower each day and poking around in dragon business. She could see the logic in finding out what was going on, especially as it had to do with Old Bones, but that made the endeavour none the less dangerous. One of the biggest tasks that fell to the GFC was holding back the machinations and plots that emanated from the east and as important as that was, they had forgotten the mission they were meant to be on. Even Ghene had lost sight of the fact they were meant to be finding the kingdom of Hanna. The way he had talked back in the GFC, he would have had them all believe that finding the lost people of Dynar would be the answer to all their problems. Now he was busy trying to get himself killed in pursuit of what? Interfering in something that none of them fully understood.

And so, with all that in mind, she decided to get things moving along her own way. After doing some more house calls she returned to their apartment. Floran and Tankle were playing a game of cards in the main room, while Arrin was watching the ships down in the harbour from the broken window.

‘Let’s all go down to the docks, shall we?’ she suggested.

They all thought that was a good idea and started to don their thick black cloaks and hoods.

‘We should be looking for a decent ship don’t you think?’ she wittered on. ‘Arrin and Tankle can get a closer look at what’s on offer. I mean, I don’t like stealing, maybe we can buy one. Well, Roztov stole all that gold I suppose, oh well anyway...’

‘It will be nice to get some fresh air at least,’ said Floran, humouring his friend.

As they left the apartment and walked down the stairs she continued to fuss. ‘I hope the boys are not getting into trouble. I’m sure Roztov will be causing a ruckus. He’ll probably come back all covered in blood and bruises.’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me at all,’ agreed Floran.

Roztov, in actual fact, was having a nice cup of tea on a private balcony with Lady Fiewa. The view across the city was spectacular. The rain had stopped for a while and there was a blue sky, breaking through the black clouds like a ray of hope that lifted Roztov’s spirits more than he had thought possible. Smoke drifted down from the tower onto the city, but there was a stiff breeze that was blowing most of it away, out to sea where it was swallowed by the wall of magical fog to the north. The smoke lingered in the streets though, an ever present smog that rarely lifted. It snaked about, below roof level, like a river of poisonous air, flowing slowly, untroubled by the winds above. Dragons, here and there, flew back and forth from the tower to whatever business they had in the city of men. Roztov pulled his eyes away from the view and looked back at his host.

‘Try one of the sugared rice cakes,’ said Lady Fiewa. ‘They are from the town of Tunde, a local delicacy.’

‘Oh yes thank you,’ replied Roztov. ‘We passed through there on the way up. I ate a lot of these when I was there. They are quite chewy, very sweet.’

‘Oh, they are filled with chocolate,’ he remarked as he chewed.‘I have a friend that would love these. She really missed the food in Tunde when we left.’

‘I can scarce believe that you made it all this way,’ said Lady Fiewa. ‘All the way through the reserve, past the Chasm, adventures around the Spire. All very thrilling, you must be powerful wizards.’

‘Druids mainly,’ corrected Roztov. ‘We have a wizard on the strength though.’

‘Ah yes. Druid. The magic of the spell I am using to communicate with you has trouble translating that word. Different from wizards, but just as powerful, I understand from your tales of adventure.’  

‘You don’t seem overly concerned about all the manhunters, dragons and gendarmes we killed getting here,’ observed Roztov.

‘Well, I’m sure it was all self-defence,’ she said with an airy wave of the hand. ‘I’ll let you into a big secret, if you promise not to tell anyone.’

Roztov leaned forward.

‘I’m an agent of the Spire,’ she said with a sly smile.

‘Oh!’ exclaimed Roztov. ‘A white dragon in disguise, like Mordran?’

‘No,’ said Fiewa, leaning back on her wicker chair. ‘Stovologard have anti-magic devices now for spotting dragons in disguise. The Spire has a new tactic - they take human children and train them to be wizards. They then send them north to spy for them.’

‘And you are one of them?’

She held up her hands, palms outwards by way of admission.

‘That, oh yes,’ said Roztov, rubbing his beard as he always did as his brain was working, ‘That would make sense of a settlement we found south of the Chasm that we called Moletown. It was essentially run by the Spire dragons.’

‘I came from one such settlement. I was a little girl when I was taken to the Spire.’

‘Huh, that’s astounding. What do you do here though, what’s your cover story?’

‘I am the chamberlain of Lord Pabajan, a dragon of a great noble house. I am permitted my own quarters and to study magic to further my ability to serve my master.’

‘You’re telling me a lot of secrets,’ said Roztov.

‘Well don’t tell the dragons,’ replied Lady Fiewa with a somewhat misplaced laugh. ‘I hope you’ll reciprocate my openness. In my last communication with my actual real master back in the Spire I was told to be on the lookout for outlanders, and now here you are! So, tell me what you know about Dreggen.’

Roztov could see no great harm in it, so he told of Dreggen’s treachery, his lies and what was discussed when Ghene met him in the Spire.

‘You’ve still got him right? What do you plan to do with him?’

‘That I cannot tell you, because I do not know. If you don’t mind though, I’ll report your arrival back to my masters.’

‘If you like,’ replied Roztov a little nervously, ‘I’ll not give you my address just yet though.’

They talked for maybe an hour or so longer. Roztov got the impression that Lady Fiewa thought herself very clever and that she considered herself a master in espionage to pull information from him. The truth was that he would have freely told her anyway, seeing no need to keep any secrets from her. She was probably thinking that she would be rewarded for sending so much news of the outlanders to her true masters, and all for the price of three cups of tea and a plate of sweet cakes.

After a while there was not much left to be said though and Roztov was content to sit and watch the sun go past. When the balcony they sat on was finally put into shadow he decided it was probably time to go.

‘I’d better get back, or they’ll worry about me,’ he said with a stretch.

‘Indeed. I get the sun in the morning, but not in the evening sadly. Please call again tomorrow, or sometime soon at least, I need to digest what you have told me and formulate more questions. Oh, and please, take some of the mochi for your friend.’

Roztov smiled, nodded and filled his pockets. Lady Fiewa stood and motioned to the door.

‘I’ll show you out.’

‘No need,’ said Roztov as he climbed onto the railing, ‘I’ll just go from here. See you later.’

He then threw himself off the rail and turned into a sparrowhawk as he fell. The bird stooped, using a downdraft near the tower to plummet down to street level at incredible speed. Lady Fiewa followed it carefully with her eye, leaning over the balcony, and watched as the bird, now little more than a black speck, levelled out and then disappeared into the street level fog like an arrow fired into the sea.

‘Show off,’ she muttered with a smile. She patted the rail then went indoors.

Roztov was the last one back to the apartment that evening. Taking off his black cloak at the door as he entered he noticed an old man sat at the table, playing cards with Floran and the sailors.

‘Who is this old fellow?’ asked Roztov.

‘His name is Bulo. He is teaching us how to play with these cards,’ explained Floran. ‘It is a game for four.’

Roztov saw that another table was now in the room, beside the window, and this was where the food and drink was being stored. He went to get his supper.

‘Ask Bulo what he knows about the Spire dragons.’

Floran and Bulo conversed for some time. The old man repeated himself over and over and laughed a lot.

‘Nasty evil things,’ passed on Floran. ‘He says he is loyal to the dragons of Stovologard.’

‘I’m sure he is a model citizen. Does he know anything about Spire dragons sending spies here?’

Again Floran talked to the old man and translated for the others. ‘He says that they used to send spies, disguised as men, but that was many years ago, when he was a child. Then the Stovologard dragons crafted the blue stones that we have seen. Since then, no more spies.’

‘That’s what he thinks.’

He went on to describe his evening. ‘Lady Fiewa, she must be one of them. She’s human, but a Spire spy, she admitted as much to me. She’s a chamberlain to dragon nobility and they suffer her to know some magic, but she’s way more powerful than she lets on if she can remove a druid’s transformation.’

‘You’d better take care, Roz,’ warned Meggelaine.

‘Och, I’ll be fine. I’m going back tomorrow. How was your day?’

‘Oh, we went down to the docks to take a look around.’

‘And what did you see,’ asked Roztov with a sigh, suspecting he knew her answer based on the tone of her last sentence.

‘You’ll see, it’s early days, but we might be onto something interesting.’

‘Well?’

‘All in good time, Mr Nosey-Parker, just you concentrate on not getting killed in that tower of yours.’

Roztov didn’t press her, he didn’t have the energy.

The next day, Roztov and Ghene returned to the tower. Roztov met and talked with Lady Fiewa again. In return for answering some more of her questions, she told him that she would put him in contact with Lorkuvan if that was what he desired.

‘Take care though,’ she warned. ‘The dragons of Stovologard care little for the lives of men. I suppose if she’s a diplomat she might be a little less aggressive.’

He then met Ghene for lunch, in a dimly lit gallery area used by the human servants that sold food to those that could afford it, or offered dole bread and stout to those that could not.

They had used some of their stolen gold to buy a decent meal of spiced rice, shredded vegetain meat and onions in fish sauce.

‘This is really good,’ remarked Roztov. ‘Something occurs to me. Did you actually see Ophess dead?’

Ghene looked up from his plate. ‘I saw her eaten.’

‘Blood and guts everywhere?’

‘Well, I confess I did not see that.’

‘Then it’s conceivable she’s still alive,’ mused Roztov. ‘It pains me... but let’s not mention it to Meg. I’ll be buggered if I’m going all the way back there on the off chance Ophess is still alive. Logically, if they didn’t want to kill her, then they are taking care of her.’

‘And teaching her magic apparently,’ said Ghene. ‘I can’t see that ending well.’

‘You think we should go back?’

Ghene put his fork down on his plate and thought for a while. ‘It is a painful thing, yes, but there is too much at stake. We need to see what happens here first. Let’s wait until after we’ve dealt with whatever is going on here first, and then think about it. Besides, I saw her go into a dragon’s mouth, most people don’t come out again.’

‘Right, right. Good idea, let’s leave it until after we’ve dealt with all this Dreggen business. We’ll probably get killed anyway, so that makes this purely an academic point I suppose.’

‘That’s right. Look on the bright side. When you meet Lorkuvan she’ll probably eat you.’

Roztov gulped down the food that was in his mouth. ‘If that’s the case, I’m having two puddings.’

He attracted the attention of a server, pointed at the sticky buns being eaten by people at a nearby table and held up four fingers.

‘I haven’t spoken of this before,’ said Ghene, ‘but Our Lady Etruna has been coming to me in my dreams of late. I have been shown visions of the end of the world. I see a burnt landscape, full of corpses, a city on fire in the distance. I see the walking dead. I see mountains of bones, literal mountains. In the sky all I can see is black clouds, lightning bolts and fire. The black shapes of dragons...’

‘Well, we’ve all been under a lot of stress. Are you going to finish your rice?’

Ghene pushed his plate towards Roztov. ‘I will do anything to prevent that future.’

‘Not even the gods can see the future Ghene.’

‘Maybe not. A warning then.’

Roztov was not a religious man, he paid lip service to the gods at best. He had never received visions or dreams, he rarely prayed and didn’t even think all that much of Etruna, the patron deity of druids. He considered religion a distraction, something to coddle and fire up the masses and to rob money from the poor. He didn’t doubt that the gods existed, his powers depended on them after all, he just didn’t see them as all that big a deal.

He also did not doubt Ghene, being an elf, had a different mind to his, perhaps more receptacle to visions sent by gods, it was not something that Roztov spent much time thinking about. Meggelaine, on the other hand, at the farthest end of the scale from Roztov received visions and dreams not just from the gods, but from animals, trees, doors, chairs, broken plates, you name it.

Ghene gazed over Roztov’s shoulder, looking across the hall, deep in thought. Roztov finished the rice and looked up. ‘Cheer up you miserable bastard, you’re not the one with the appointment inside a dragon’s belly.’

‘It’s every night now Roz. She comes to me every night. I’m standing on a hillside. The grass is all burnt, I can smell it, and I look down on a city in flames. I look around and there is not one thing that isn’t charred black. The sky is black. Everything is black except for the flames and the bones of...’

‘All right!’ cried Roztov. ‘You’re giving me the heebie-jeebies, I get the picture. At least Etruna is aware of us then? Maybe she’ll help for a change.’

After lunch they went their separate ways, Ghene to work his way up into the noble district and Roztov to seek out Lorkuvan. It was late when Roztov found her chambers and since he was reaching the limit of how long he could remain as a rock lizard he decided to approach her the next day.

As he flew back to their apartment, he kept an eye on a battle that was being fought in the sky in the southern part of the city. It was getting dark and there was a good deal of smoke, but it appeared that a group of Chasm dragons were breathing fire down on the tenements. Stovologard dragons were harassing them, but making no great effort to stop the burning. Even from this distance Roztov could tell them apart. The Chasm dragons varied greatly in size and colour while the city dragons were uniformly black or dark green. He resisted the temptation to go watch the battle and dove down into the smoke filled streets.

Roztov found he was the last one back again that evening.

‘This place is a bit much,’ he said as he helped himself to the food laid out on the table. ‘There is a battle to the south. The Chasm dragons are torching the houses.’

‘We need to get out of here,’ said Meggelaine. ‘I’m very stressed. There is no one else to help these people. No one helps them Roz, they just die!’

‘I know sweetie, let me eat first.’

While he ate, Roztov told the others of his latest encounter with Lady Fiewa and his plan to seek out Lorkuvan the next day. 'There are some big players in this game,’ he concluded. I'm not sure of what our involvement should be.’

‘Why should we be involved at all?’ chided Meggelaine. ‘You men are infuriating.’

‘If Garumuda is involved in all this, we need to know what it is Meg,’ put in Ghene.

Meggelaine, sat by the fire was now actively shivering. ‘For the love of Etruna, stop saying his name! I’m a nervous wreck as it is! Now look what you’ve done.’

Meggelaine held out her hands to show how much they were shaking.

‘I apologise,’ said Ghene.

‘He'd never come anyway, he'd send a captain,’ said Meggelaine, trying to quell her fears. ‘He never leaves his lair. He just sets up powerful undead in places, like King Bloodwurm, or all those witch-queens in the Norob Forest.’

‘I’m scared too Meg,’ admitted Ghene. ‘Terrified. But, we need to find out what’s going on. This could mean the end of Nillamandor. Or even all life on Goffehag.’

‘I don’t think it will come to that,’ grunted Roztov through a mouthful of spiced beef.

‘That’s his ultimate goal, to destroy all life. Even if he may never realise it, that’s his only driving force. To turn all of Goffehag into a wasteland. Every time he gains more power, anywhere, in any way, it impacts the Great Forest. We are the front line.’

‘I know, I know,’ said Roztov, gearing up for another debate with Ghene, ‘I’ve heard it many times “The kingdoms of man don’t know the debt they owe the GFC” and “We are all the holds him back”. I’ve heard it all before and while some of it may be true, you are not the only ones with skin in the game. Oh, and I’ve got news for you, he’s already west of the Great Forest.’

‘Roztov,’ said Ghene with a hint of irritation. ‘Why does that not prove my point? We are already losing. We don’t need any more dragons, alive or undead.’

‘True,’ admitted Roztov. ‘Hey, Em, this might cheer you up.’

He took another bag of mochi from his pocket and threw it at her.

‘Let’s just go home,’ she said as she opened the bag. ‘Back where it’s safe. This has all been a terrible mistake. I’m too old for adventures.’

After they had eaten, the druids flew south to help the burnt and injured. They returned near to midnight, covered in blood and soot.

The next day, Roztov the rock lizard made his way to the chambers of Lorkuvan, after following the directions given to him by Lady Fiewa. He knew enough about the tower now to know that the higher you went, the more important the dragon. Since Lorkuvan was quite near the top, this marked her out as nobility.

He found her in a large meeting hall, where she was talking to five other dragons. He scampered up the wall and hid in the cornicing. There were other rock lizard there too, dozing or chatting. A female came up to him. ‘Hello darling.’

‘Hey, sweetie. How’s it going?’

‘Good. You here for the food? They give good scraps here.’

‘I’m here to see Lorkuvan, I suppose,’ confessed Roztov nervously.

‘Got a message for her have you babe?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Where’s your collar?’

Roztov sighed. He was used to dealing with nosey rock lizards after his last few days in the tower in their society. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Rosey.’

‘Tell you what, Rosey, give me a kiss you saucy thing.’

Rosey blinked rapidly several times, the rock lizard equivalent of a blush. ‘I’ve got a boyfriend, cheeky!’

‘Is he bigger than me?’

Roztov was trying to listen to the conversation between the dragons in the meeting, but the rock lizards were too distracting.

‘Hey pal, hey pal,’ said another rock lizard. ‘Are you looking at my girl?’

‘A lizard can look.’

‘A wise guy, eh? You been talking to her?’

‘A lizard can talk.’

‘Get outta here, small tail.’

Roztov had done this dozens of times already, the tower rock lizards were always arguing. Lacking teeth or claws, they only ever used harsh language on each other. He found that generally he could win any fight by using an insult none of them had heard before. ‘Get outta my face, err... Pink bum!’

‘I... What? Oh! Pink? Why, you’ve hurt my feelings!’ The male lizard was about to something else but a dragon down in the room looked up and let out a high pitched hiss. This had the same meaning as a man saying “Hey!” to a pack of dogs and the rock lizards all froze.

Roztov turned his head very slowly and poked his tongue out at the male lizard, which had the same meaning with rock lizards as it did with people.

                                     

The conversation below centred on the progress of the war with the dragon’s of the Chasm. After a while food was served and eaten. The dragon’s then left the chamber and the servants came in to eat the leftovers. Then their leftovers were left for the rock lizards. It was rare to let the servants and lizards do this, but Roztov had seen it done in a few households. Usually it was thrown straight out, but the “kinder” dragons did this, which Roztov took as a good sign.

He followed Lorkuvan into what was apparently her private chamber. It was well appointed with furniture to the scale of a dragon. As in the Spire, some dragons favoured large couches to rest on and she reclined herself into the one at the far side of the room. She began to sort through a collection of treasure on a table nearby, a pass time that all the Stovologard dragons indulged in when they were relaxing.

Roztov scampered across the floor and under the couch.

‘The food is in the main hall,’ she said to the room. It was a while before Roztov realised she had just addressed him.

He slowly stepped out from under the couch and looked up at her. ‘Remember me?’

The dragon fixed him with its yellow eyes and gave him a stern look. She was in better condition than when he had seen her last. He blackish green scales glistened in the light from the windows, her long, almost elegant, body rose up from the couch and she spread her wings.

Roztov nervously took two steps back and licked both his eyeballs.

‘I’m the guy that saved your life, remember?’

He stood side on so she could see his piebald markings, but then realised how ridiculous that was.

‘Outlander,’ she hissed. ‘And now here in Stovologard, causing trouble.’

‘Trouble? Not me lady.’

‘Don’t lie to me, you dung-eater.’

‘Sorry.’

‘There was talk of shape-shifters in the city. Everyone assumed it was dragons from the Spire, but now I realise it must have been you.’

‘Listen...’

‘You may have saved my life,’ said the dragon, ‘but you have killed four dragons that I know of, two by rats, one that fell and one of the rune-keepers. Why should I help a murderer?’

‘Well, for a start you’ve got no proof that was me.’

Lorkuvan reared up again and showed her teeth. Roztov scuttled back a few more paces.

‘Don’t eat me!’

‘Why would I eat you? I’m sure you’d taste disgusting. Just tell me the truth before I lose my temper.’

‘Very well then. It was me and my friends. One of whom died in the battle,’ replied Roztov. ‘Stovologard is the reason I’m here though. We were heading somewhere else, but your agent Dreggen brought us here. Then a dragon fired out ship and killed most of our crew. We’ve just been trying to survive since then.’

‘Murder is murder all the same in Stovologard. It is unheard of for men to kill dragons, it’s hard to guess what dreadful punishment they would create for you.’

‘Right, well, let’s just stick a pin in that for the moment eh, old girl?’ said Roztov hastily. ‘I’m just here to give you a warning. Whatever crazy plan you dragons have to link up with Garumuda will be a disaster for you. Preventing the opening of some kind of magical portal between you and him will save hundreds of dragon lives. And thousands of humans probably.’

‘Well that’s kind of you, I must say,’ laughed Lorkuvan. ‘That’s all your here for is it?’

‘We just want to leave. If you have a ship you can give us we can get out of your scales.’

‘I’m not sure about that.’

‘We don’t want any more fighting or deaths.’

Lorkuvan snorted. ‘There is no need to start making threats. All I mean is that ships are not my purview. I know nothing about them.’

‘There is nothing you can do?’

‘I never said that,’ said the dragon. ‘Honestly, if you were a dragon I’d say it was good to see you. After what happened at the Chasm, I’ve given a lot of thought to why a powerful outlander was on Tanud. Now you have solved that mystery. I share your concerns regarding Garumuda. Tell me what you know.’

‘All right,’ said Roztov. ‘The man called Dreggen that led out ship here, he was part of a flight of dragons on a mission to meet Garumuda. They were taking a message back to your King, but were all killed by griffon cavalry. Only Dreggen survived. How he got as far west as he did before he met us, I’m not sure, but our ship’s captain foolishly hired him as a navigator. He is now on the island, in the custody of the Spire dragons. Wherever he is, he’s a danger to everyone. He may not know it, but he will have been tainted by Garumuda in some way.’

‘What do mean tainted?’

‘Old Bones will have hexed him somehow, I doubt even the Spire dragons will know how. That’s what Garumuda does though, he hollows out men and fills them with poison.’

‘You are familiar with his methods?’

‘All too familiar I’m afraid. His armies of undead are right on the borders of the kingdoms of men.’

Lorkuvan sighed. ‘How strange that sounds to my ears. You may as well say “the kingdoms of mice”. Your counsel is useful, I concede.I remember it now. Three years ago. It was an ill conceived notion. When they never came back it was forgotten about. Do you know where this Dreggen is now?

‘The Spire dragons still have him as far as I know,’ answered Roztov. ‘Whatever message he has, they’ll know it too. I should have probably killed him when I had the chance back in Vine Street.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

‘Recent evidence to the contrary, I am a peaceful man.’

‘You speak of the death of my kin lightly. I should really hand you over to the rune-keepers.’

‘I’d be out that window and away in the blink of an eye, lady.’

‘Boastful little rock lizard.’

Lorkuvan relaxed a little into her couch to think. After a while, she seemed to make up her mind about something and spoke again. ‘There is to be a cease fire. Then after that there is to be a Diet. Apparently Bloated King Blavius has something on his mind he wants to discuss with King Primus, but the Spire dragons will be there too. I’ll bring you along as an advisor if you don’t mind.’

‘Right,’ said Roztov, wondering what he was agreeing to.

‘As to Garumuda, I am in agreement with you. Forming an alliance with the undead is madness, even if they are dragons. King Primus may see things differently though. Garumuda is his kin, they are of the same bloodline.’

‘Stone me!’ exclaimed Roztov.

‘Nothing happens quickly with dragons. Come back in a week. We will discuss things further then.’

‘We just wait where we are then?’ asked Roztov.

‘Well, I’m not taking you in like a herd of lost vegetains,’ laughed the dragon.‘If your friends are safe where they are, then leave them there. I can see what I can do to help you leave once this Diet is over, one way or the other.’

‘Right you are, my lady,’ said Roztov feeling he was being dismissed. ‘Well, it’s been lovely to see you again.’

‘Don’t let me detain you any further.’

Roztov scampered out of her room and into the corridor. He could smell the leftovers in the main hall, but he had no desire to eat scraps with the lizards and went to meet Ghene for lunch instead. He had a fair bit of news to pass on.