(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.

Chapter 18 - The Tower of Stovologard (7314)

Chapter 18 - The Tower of Stovologard (7314)

Tears fell down Roztov’s smoke and soot covered face as he gathered up Broddor’s bones and armour. Floran tied up a gendarme’s abandoned cloak into a makeshift bag and they placed all the remains into it.

‘We cannot tarry, Roz,’ said the wizard.

‘This is my fault, Tup, from the beginning. He didn’t need to come, he didn’t need to be here. I just wanted him to come on this stupid adventure because I thought it would be fun.’

‘I know, but the dust is settling now, soon the dragons will come again.’

‘What will I tell his father?’

‘That he died slaying a dragon. What better way for his son to die?’

Roztov sniffed and wiped his eyes, smearing soot across his face. Smoke billowed down the narrow street, blown by dragon wings further back where the street met a larger thoroughfare.

Floran stepped up onto a pile of rubble and held out his arm to shoot more fire flies into the clouds of smoke and dust. Unseen, there was the sounds of men falling over in armour and crying out in pain.

‘What is the plan?’ asked the wizard calmly.

‘I... I...’ stuttered Roztov as he came to himself. He stood holding the top of the bag that Broddor’s remains were in. ‘I’m not sure about flying out. Shape-shifting into anything large is hard here and once we were above the rooftops I think the dragons would have us.’

‘More rats?’

Roztov was watching down the street behind them while Floran looked over the ruined roof that blocked the street ahead of them. He could see gendarmes and dragonriders gathering, a group of shadows in the smoke that were looming closer.

‘Maybe,’ said the druid. ‘Maybe if I did some rats and you did some bees.’

‘Worth a try I suppose. You know what direction to go in?’

‘Well, I’m not sure going back through all our mouse holes is a good idea. Wait...’

Roztov threw his arms in the air as a volley of arrows was fired at them. A wall of air pushed them all upwards to clatter harmlessly on the walls of the buildings on either side.

‘The dragons are watching us,’ said Floran with a gesture upwards.

‘Save your fire flies for the men on the ground, I don’t think another dragon will come down here.’

Floran nodded and fire off a volley of his own, five fire flies, whizzing through the air, each finding a target and knocking them to the ground. The others scattered.

Another shape came flying towards them, and Roztov raised his arms again, but it was a seagull, gliding in fast. It landed clumsily at its feet and fell over. It then turned into Meggelaine.

‘For the sake of Etruna, what’s the hold up? Ghene said to wait for you, but I was worried sick. Come on will you, we’ve found a good place to hide, where is Broddor?’ she said all in one breath.

‘Dead,’ said Roztov dully.

Meggelaine looked at the dirty bag in Roztov’s hand and let out a sob. ‘No.’

She took a few steps backwards, as if trying to retreat from the reality of their friend’s death. ‘No, Roztov, no. Not Broddor, not after all these years. How did... how can it happen? Broddor is indestructible.’

‘It was anti-magic sweetie. The dragon got him,’ he gestured at Neith’s corpse, ‘but he got it.’

Meggelaine was crying and sobbing. ‘But they can come back, Roztov? Didn’t a Holy Knight of Aerekrig come back one time?’

‘I don’t know, Meg. I think that was just stories.’

Floran was the only one watching the street. ‘They are getting closer.’

Roztov looked up and Meggelaine looked around. Gendarme’s, holding tall shields, were slowly advancing down the street. There were men behind them carrying spears.

‘I don’t want to kill any more of these men,’ said Roztov. With a grunt he held out his hands then with his palms down pushed down on the air. Twenty steps in front of them the street buckled and the cobblestones bounced up. The gendarme’s held up their shields, but they were in no great danger as the cobbles only jumped from the ground a few feet. The earth ahead of them flowed and shifted until there was a deep trench ten feet wide. As they stood, wondering what to do, five more fire flies whizzed towards them, but they exploded more or less harmlessly against their shields.

Floran looked back over the rubble. ‘There are more down this way too.’

Roztov and Meggelaine clambered up over the dead dragon’s neck and onto the collapsed roof.

There was a large group of men milling around at the end of the street, getting organised for an advance.

‘I can see Honni at the back. He’s still with them,’ said Roztov. ’I don’t want to, but I wonder if we should kill him. How much has he told them about us I wonder? It would be better to still his tongue.’

‘No!’ cried Meggelaine, even as the tears for Broddor still fell from her cheeks. ‘He’s just a man, what about his family? We don’t know why he betrayed us.’

‘The wretch bears a lot of responsibility for Broddor’s death, Meg.’

‘That’s not who we are Roz!’ chided the fressle. ‘Maybe we can grab him and take him prisoner. We can take him with us, then he can’t tell anyone anything.’

‘I’m not sure...’ Roztov said as he looked down at the scimitar in his right hand, then the bag in his left.

‘Listen, we can’t just...’

Floran stepped ahead of them and shot off a magical arrow, a bolt of yellow magic, that lanced towards the group of men. It hit Honni squarely in the chest and exited out of his back before evaporating.

‘Tuppence!’ cried Meggelaine.

‘No longer an issue,’ said Floran with finality.

Roztov looked out across the fallen roof, then looked back at the street where he had created the chasm. The gendarme’s were laying beams to cross it.

‘Roztov, we need a plan,’ said Floran.

‘Right, right,’ said the druid as he looked around. ‘Well, it looks like seagulls are a possibility in this place. Me and Meg can get out like that, at least.’

Roztov, rubbing his chin, walked over to where a slain gendarme was lying.

‘The smoke is clearing, but if I raised another fog...’

Floran, understanding straight away, joined Roztov.

‘He’s about my size. I like this plan. Make a fog, then you two fly off. I’ll get lost in the crowd.’

‘It’s too dangerous,’ said Meggelaine as she joined them.

‘Don’t worry Meg,’ said Floran. ‘If I get into trouble I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve.’

‘Och, fine,’ sighed Meggelaine. ‘Head to the docks when you get away then, but go three streets back, right? The street with all the carts in it. I’ll etch a druidic rune on the door of the tenement we are in. We are on the top floor, but come quietly as there are people living on the lower floors.’

Roztov was already summoning a druidic fog, his arms raised as a thick mist swirled about them.

‘See you soon, Tup.’

He then held the bag of Broddor’s remains close to his body and changed shape. Man, bag, bones and all turned into a seagull and took off into the air.

Meggelaine held up her arms for a hug. When Floran bent down she hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘See you soon, Tup.’

Once she too had flown off, Floran sighed and scratched the back of his head. He then dragged the body of the gendarme into the open doorway of the nearest tenement building to find a place to hide while he changed into the armour.

Fish were caught in the seas north of Stovologard, by skinny men and women in long narrow boats. At this time of year they only went out when the sea was calm and the skies clear, which was rarely. Still, the fisher’s wharfs were one of the few places where birds flew on the island, a large and aggressive type of herring gull with distinctive black hoods and yellow beaks. They picked through the piles of fish bones and shells or robbed bread from the dole carts, not even the dragon stench of smoke and sulphur kept them away.

Two of them landed clumsily on a street three rows back from the quayside. They then hopped through a broken window and into an abandoned room. Here they turned into Meggelaine and Roztov.

‘There are families on the second, third and fourth floors. I’ve met some of them already, they are all lovely people. We’ve got the whole of the sixth floor to ourselves, the windows are all broken and boarded up, which is perfect for us,’ explained Meggelaine as they walked up the central stairwell.

Roztov, with the bag of armour and bones over his back ran his right hand over the plaster as they climbed.

‘Look at the brick work here Meg,’ he said quietly. ‘At least a hundred years old. And see the remains of the plaster? It was once painted. More than one colour too, these would have been…’

He trailed off as he thought of what Broddor would be saying to his observations. Meggelaine, realising this, hurried him along.

‘Time for all that later, Roz. We’ve got more important matters to attend to right now.’

At the top of the stairs were three boarded up doors and one that stood slightly open. Within the apartment, in the room that offered the only view of the docks, Ghene, Tankle and Arrin sat warming themselves at a small fireplace.

‘Broddor and Tuppence?’ asked Ghene as he stood up.

‘Tuppence is on his way,’ said Roztov. He then went to the corner of the room and gently laid down the sack he was carrying. ‘Broddor is dead.’

Ghene listened in dismay, and then in quiet contemplation as Roztov told the story of Broddor’s death. Roztov changed the ending so that it was Broddor that killed the dragon. Not that it mattered, he thought, but the dragon may well have died from the injury it had received in the chest anyway. That and the fact that it had had a roof land on it, perhaps the last sword thrust had only hastened its end.

Ghene let out a deep sigh at the end of the tale and said, ‘Well, there is no better way for a dwarven warrior to go I suppose.’

‘But so far away from home!’ blurted out Meggelaine. ‘This is all my stupid fault. He survived goblin wars, necromancers, the undead, two-headed giants, you name it. And now here, he dies… Oh Roztov.’

Roztov sat down by the fire and hugged Meggelaine to him like a child.

‘They can come back though Roz? I heard that, or read it, or Broddor told me, or something, about the Holy Knights. Sometimes the come back?’

‘I don’t know Meg. I always thought that was just legends, but maybe.’

‘There are tales of ancient Dynar, that they could bring back the dead,’ put in Ghene. ‘But those are sad stories and they never turn out well.’

‘That’s no use Ghene,’ said Meggelaine, her voice muffled from her face being buried into Roztov’s chest. ‘Bloody stories of people coming back as goats that could talk. Honestly.’

‘I merely mention it.’

‘Anyway,’ sighed Roztov. ‘We need to return his remains to his family and the armour to the temple. It’s all we can do.’

Two hours later Floran returned, dressed in gendarme armour he caused a stir on the stair well when he was spotted by some of the other residents, but they relaxed when he kept on going up. As he got to the top floor he removed his helmet.

‘Only me,’ he greeted them as he entered.

‘I warned you about the people that lived here, Tup you idiot,’ said Meggelaine as he entered. ‘You will have given them all a scare.’

‘I apologise,’ said Floran. ‘It didn’t occur to me. Is there anything to eat?’

‘Here on the table, this is all that is left. Hard to believe it’s only just lunchtime,’ she observed.

Meggelaine did her best to supply them with a meal from the bags they had managed to take with them that morning. They talked of the battle.

‘That was a disaster from start to finish,’ said Roztov as he chewed on some dried and spicy vegetain meat, ‘A total mess, we can’t go through all that again.’

‘Agreed,’ said Ghene. ‘We need to stay hidden from now on, like mice under the floorboards.’

Meggelaine busied about the table, but there was little for her to do since they were eating the food cold and with no plates or cutlery, so she found a broom and started sweeping the floor.

‘Mice under the floorboards,’ she muttered. ‘There is mice here alright, their droppings are everywhere. This place needs a good scrub.’

Roztov finished his food and went to sit back by the fire, trying to keep away from the fressles cleaning frenzy.

After he too had finished eating, Ghene turned into a rock lizard and scurried off down the stairs to take a look at the docks. He blended in well, rock lizards were everywhere, either scampering around in the shadowy parts of the streets or climbing up and down on the sides of buildings. Sometimes the smarter ones were kept as pets or companions for children. The even more intelligent ones were given messages to deliver or other small errands.

The others either sat by the fire or quietly went about the top floors of the building looking for furniture that was still functional and anything else of interest.

Floran and Arrin found a good bed on the fifth floor that still had a clean enough mattress underneath its dust cover.

‘It looks a bit heavy to drag upstairs, my lord,’ said Arrin.

‘Yes, maybe if Roztov turned into a bear he could carry it, but then, we are trying to keep our presence low key. A bear would probably draw attention.’

‘The people in this building have already seen us, can we trust them?’

‘I don’t know. From what I gather though, people moving from one building to another is not uncommon. Many people in the population are outcasts. That means they are not servants of the dragons. Not free men exactly, more like outlaws, but most folks turn a blind eye to them, even the gendarmes. I should imagine the people in this building assume we are outcasts.’

The walked together to a window and peered out through the dirty and broken glass.

‘Fog moving in again,’ said Arrin. Then after a long pause he said, ‘I can’t believe Broddor is dead.’

Floran sighed. ‘His death sits heavily on me, indeed. I will miss him greatly.’

‘Can he be resurrected, truly?’

Floran thought for a moment or two and then said, ‘We will return his remains, and the armour to his people. The armour is sacred and will be passed onto the next Holy Knight. There must always be twelve, apparently. As to bringing him back. No. My people, have tried for a thousand years to cheat death. They who practice necromancy are a blight on my nation and the nations around it. Even Roztov’s first wife took this dark and evil path after the death of… Well, those who seek to defeat these forces of darkness believe that the dead must stay dead. I am one of them, the Vizards of Heshmatiye, we destroy the undead wherever we find them. My friends forget themselves. They talk of the danger to the world of Garamuda, the dragon known as “Old Bones” on the one hand, but then talk of taking our friend back from the land of the dead on the other. It was double-thinking like that, which led to the mess Nillamandor is in now. The mistakes made in Al-Hamdalla should not be repeated… I find I am delivering a lecture, I apologise.’

Floran smiled and bowed then finally said, ‘They will come to their senses after a few days. Sadly, we are much practiced at burying our friends.’

Ghene returned in the evening, bringing food and drink he had acquired from a dole cart down at the docks.

‘Free beer,’ he explained. ‘Free bread as well. Once a week, or some time period anyway, the carts come around to feed the populace. They can take as much as they want.’

With the beer they toasted the memory of Broddor, standing in the tenement apartment, by the light of the small fire in the hearth. Ghene eased himself into a dusty armchair and nibbled on a crust of the rock hard bread.

‘You need the beer to soak the bread in,’ he muttered. ‘The docks are teaming with gendarmes and busy with fishermen and other workers. I am not a nautical person, but ships arrive with coal and other rocks, perhaps from another island? The city is somewhat agitated, it could be because of us. We get a good view of the docks from here though, I think we will be safe for a while.’

‘You say that,’ said Roztov as he paced around the room, ‘but can we trust the other people in this building? We thought we could trust Honni.’

‘I cannot be sure, of course, but he did know we were outlanders. These people are under the impression we are outlaws and not connected to all of today’s incidents. Each evening we can skulk about as rock lizards and listen into their conversations if you like.’

‘Might be an idea,’ replied Roztov before taking a large swig from his beer bottle. ‘This stuff has been honeyed. It’s not mead though. There is bugger all alcohol in it.’

‘The locals call it Sweetheart. It’s stout,’ said Floran who was now sat on a broken down couch in the shadows at the rear of the room.

‘Broddor would have hated it. It tastes like that stuff you get in those little villages on the west coast of Boreland.’

‘That’s it!’ said Meggelaine as she took another swig. ‘That stuff had a peaty taste from the water though. This stuff tastes of smoke, but otherwise it’s the same. Oh, that time on Boreland, when we were chasing those creatures down into their lairs, what were they?’

‘Niffilbins.’

‘Oh Etruna, yes,’ said Meggelaine as she put her bottle down and rubbed her feet by the fire. ‘We call them something different in Tormland though. Broddor got cornered by six of them and then dragged off. We were an hour looking for him, I was really worried he was dead...’

Meggelaine sniffed and rubbed the tears from her eyes. ‘Those tunnels were like rabbit holes, just twisting around everywhere. He got lost and turned around, and then when he popped up out of the ground, just like a... just like a rabbit really and shouted “I appear!” it was so funny. We all laughed, but we had been so worried. They had witches you know, they could have done anything to him.’

Roztov finally sat down beside her and she rested her head on his side.

‘It’s never going to be the same now, Roz.’

Ghene was at the window now, catching glimpses of the lights down at the docks through gaps in the smoke and fog. ‘We can send Floran down with some of the gold we have left to get some decent supplies. I can’t live off stale bread and sugary stout.’

‘We should all be super careful,’ said Meggelaine, ‘We should lay low and let things settle for a while.’

‘Yes,’ said Ghene with a hint of uncertainty.

‘Listen,’ chided Meggelaine, ‘I know what you two are like, but it all got really messy today. Should we just leave the city altogether do you think, for a while? I don’t have much sympathy for dragons, but all those poor gendarmes and dragonriders we killed, at the end of the day they were just doing their job.’

‘I know,’ said Roztov. ‘It got out of hand, but we are so close now.’ He sighed, finished his beer and gently laid the bottle down on the hearthstone. ‘Close, but this will be the hardest part. How can we take a ship from the harbour unnoticed? How can we sail it with five people even if we manage to steal one?’

‘Not counting me, eh? Charming,’ muttered Meggelaine.

‘Six then, but even so.’

‘One thing at a time,’ said Meggelaine, giving advice that she herself never followed. ‘I’m going to start by cleaning the room next door. It can be for me and Tankle to sleep in.’

Later that night, Roztov and Ghene sat on the roof watching the fog roll past.

‘I want to get in the main tower, take a look inside. We need to find what’s going on with Dreggen. He may be in the city already,’ said Ghene.

‘I agree,’ nodded Roztov, pulling his black cloak closer around his body. ‘We’d best keep it from Meg though, she’s close to cracking.’

‘Oh, she complains a lot, but she’s tough,’ said the elf. ‘You should see her in Council meetings.’

‘To be honest, I’m not that far away from cracking myself. I don’t need a half-crazed fressle on my hands as well. We’d better be gentle with her tomorrow.’

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t know how we go on without Broddor now. How can we? It’s... I don’t know, he was the heart and soul of the Company.’

‘We go on, by going on, Roz. Despite how it may feel sometimes, we are doing important work here. Everything we learn on this island, if we can get it home, will be of great worth. If we can prevent some sort of unholy alliance between the dragons here and Garumuda then perhaps even Broddor’s death will have been worth it.’

‘Maybe, Ghene,’ replied Roztov. Then sat in silence for a while after that, watching the harbour lights.

Ghene and Roztov took the last watch and woke Meggelaine just before dawn.

‘It’s your watch, sweetie,’ said Roztov as he gently shook her shoulder.

‘You are all dressed, where are you going?’

‘Just for a little look around. Nothing serious.’

‘Don’t go anywhere near that tower,’ she said as she sat up from her little bed and rubbed her eyes. ‘I know what you are like. You and Ghene will be drawn to it like moths to a flame. A giant tower full of Etruna-knows-what, it’s irresistible to fools like you.’

‘We won’t go near it.’

‘Think of poor Broddor. None of us are indestructible.’

‘I know,’ he said as he ruffled her hair, ‘We need to scout though. We can’t just sail away from this place, not without being spotted. We need to gather information.’

Meggelaine sighed. ‘Pass me my tunic. Well, go then, if you must, but if you love me, then take care.’

‘We will,’ said Roztov. As he leaned over to get her shirt he gave her a kiss on the forehead. ‘See you later sweetie.’

Ghene was already waiting for Roztov on the roof. ‘All good?’

‘She’s on edge, but surviving. Anyway, let’s go.’

They turned into rock lizards and scampering from rooftop to rooftop they headed directly towards the huge central tower of Stovologard.

Meggelaine and Tankle shared a room, but when she woke, she noticed that Tankle was not around. Arrin was still asleep where them men’s bedroom was, snoring quietly. With no one to make breakfast for, after she was dressed and had eaten, she went downstairs to the room where the big double bed had been found. As she suspected, Tankle was asleep in it with Floran. She did not wake them, but with nothing better to do she started trying a few doors to see what was to be seen.

She went down another floor and reaching up to the handle, found a door that lead into what would have once been quite a fine apartment. In a glass cabinet she saw what looked like a decent dinner service.

‘I’ll take this upstairs,’ she said to herself. ‘They can eat off this, the bunch of savages, leaving crumbs everywhere.’

Meggelaine started sorting through some of the cups, saucers and plates. It all had sat here for years, but she could see it was good quality. She hummed a little tune as she worked, then stopped as she notice a little girl watching her from the doorway. She was dressed in a long black cloak, but her hood and mask were pulled back. Like many of the people Meggelaine saw around here she had a black line of soot across her eyes.

‘Oh hello dear,’ said Meggelaine. ‘Oops. You won’t understand a word I’m saying.’

Meggelaine noticed the girl had a dirty bandage on her left hand. ‘Let’s take a look at that dear. Come closer, I won’t harm you.’

The girl hesitated, but who she saw before her, was so small and childlike as to appear utterly harmless. She said something in draconic that Meggelaine didn’t understand. The girl watched as this miniature woman approached her and took her hand. Meggelaine unwound the dirty bandage and looked at the infected wound beneath it.

‘Oh, that must be terribly sore. Let me heal that for you.’

The girl gasped as blue light began to glow between their hands, but did not draw away.

‘That feels better doesn’t it?’ asked Meggelaine as the wound healed.

The girl held up her hand and smiled in wonder. She then looked down at the fressle and walked back to the door. She gestured to Meggelaine to follow her.

‘Well, fine dear,’ said the fressle, ‘but I’m coming back for that dinner set.’

After he woke, Floran kissed Tankle goodbye and went down into the streets to buy food. He was the only one that spoke the language and had learned to pass himself off as someone from the south. When he returned at lunchtime he found Meggelaine had set up another clinic. Tankle had been pressed into acting as a nurse again and met Floran on the stairs as he came up, carrying two bags of shopping.

‘She’s at it again, Tup,’ said Tankle.

Floran sighed and entered the room that Meggelaine was using. There were two men there, one of whom was sat on the floor as the little fressle looked in his mouth.

‘If Roztov catches you doing this you’ll get into trouble Meg,’ said Floran. ‘He’ll probably say that if word gets about that there is some kind of magical midget in this house then you’ll bring the gendarmes down on us, don’t you think? I don’t want anyone to be angry with you.’

‘I know, I know,’ said Meggelaine, ‘But this man has an abscess the size of a quail’s egg. Take a look.’

Floran peered into the man’s mouth, then grimaced and took a step back.

‘Nasty.’

The man gave him a pitiful look.

‘Well, at least move your clinic over to the other side of the street. Then you can keep it secret from Roz.’

‘I will, I will. I’ll do it after I’ve attended to these men. Once you’ve put the shopping away, go over the road and find me a good place, would you dear?’

Floran smiled and said that he would, and left before he was given any more jobs to do.

Later that evening, Roztov and Ghene returned to the top floor, flying in through the broken window. Floran and Arrin were playing cards at the table.

‘Where is Meggelaine?’ asked Roztov.

‘She’s doing house calls,’ replied Floran in a measured tone.

‘Oh for the love of... I’d better go get her.’

They returned together some time later, Roztov carrying all the small gifts Meggelaine had received from the people she had healed.

‘You should be more careful, Em,’ chided Roztov gently as he set down all the gifts on the table. ‘Someone is bound to tell on us.’

‘Well, you two went to that tower didn’t you?’ she retorted tartly. ‘Didn’t you?’

She gave Roztov and Ghene both a pointed look.

‘We did,’ admitted Roztov. ‘But it was all fine. Let’s just eat dinner, shall we?’

That evening, their main room that was now filled with more furniture, dragged through from other abandoned rooms. None of it was in very good condition, but it was usable. Tankle and Arrin sat at a table playing a board game that they were making up the rules for. Meggelaine, Roztov and Ghene talked together, sat on the armchairs by the fire. Floran sat at the back of the room, in his favourite place where it was darkest. All of them were still eating.

‘The tower is incredible,’ admitted Ghene. ‘Bigger than one of the Dynarian mariners tower’s of legend.  There are no armed men there, they hardly need gendarmes to guard them, but there are plenty of human servants attending to their needs. Lots of rock lizards too, running errands and delivery messages. Each dragon has their own retinue of servants, sometimes in their own livery. We saw a lot of coming and going.’

‘Anything that might help us?’ asked Meggelaine.

‘Nothing today, but it’s where everything happens. It’s the centre of the city.’

‘Probably spent most of your time arguing over the crafting of pillars,’ she muttered.

‘In actual fact, you raise an interesting point,’ said Roztov. ‘Who indeed crafted that entire edifice? There are carvings reminiscent of the Chasm, and yet it all much newer. I saw some human mason’s carrying out repairs and they knew what they were doing. It must be aided by magic to stand so tall and we did see some dragons using magic.’

‘But most do not,’ said Ghene. ‘Perhaps they number the same small amount as in the nations of men. We’ve not come across any areas of the tower dedicated to the study of magic though. Perhaps they don’t.’

‘We’ll find out at some point,’ said Roztov before returning to the topic of architecture. ‘They have these big long halls, with tall vaulted ceilings. The dragons keep their own chambers. Some are organised into broods while the nobles have virtual palaces all to themselves. On the higher levels there are, well, how to describe them, like town squares, where the dragons meet and discuss things.’

‘We didn’t go all the way up,’ said Ghene. ‘It was reminiscent of the Spire though, in layout. Slightly less refined in appearance, more solid.’

‘We talked to some of the other rock lizards too, they are a happy lot. They have no knowledge of their kin in the Chasm. The serve the dragons only for the joy of it,’ said Roztov.

‘And yet, not all their servants are so happy,’ added Ghene. ‘We saw a dragon throw one of its human servants from the window for some minor slight. They punish the humans too, by incinerating them. I talked to a woman who told me that if one of them falls pregnant they have to hide it or the dragons will kill them. They want to keep the human population down, perhaps because there are too many to feed, I’m not sure, and they slay any woman within the tower who they find with child. They smuggle their babies down into the tenements to be raised as foundlings.’

‘That’s horrible,’ said Meggelaine. ‘This place...’

‘It’s dreadful, but think about this, compared to countries like Lunaria or Gnarlwold back in Nillamandor the people here are still better off. Better fed for a start.’

‘Oh, don’t bring up Gnarlwold Ghene, I’m at the end of my tether as it is.’

The conversation stopped for a while as a tin of biscuits was passed around.

Roztov looked over the back of his chair, offering the tin back to the others. ‘Are you still awake, Tup?’

‘Still here, yes,’ replied the wizard, waving the tin away.

‘What news of the harbour, what news on the streets?’

Floran cleared his throat then gave his report. ‘Things seem normal, well, normal for this place. People are getting on with their lives. I heard talk of the dragons we killed today, but it was discussed with no great urgency.’

‘Surely they must have every gendarme in the city looking for us after that though?’

‘Yes, but they think we we’re Spire dragons in disguise. From what I gather from listening to the gossip at the dole carts it is attributed to Spire dragon agitators, these things are not uncommon apparently and since the recent escalation of war with the south such an attack had been expected.’

‘I suppose that makes sense.’

‘Apparently the Spire has always been sending spies into Stovologard,’ continued Floran, warming to the theme, but not rising from his couch. ‘Dragon’s in disguise, like Mordran, that’s why some of the Stovologard dragons have those blue talismans, as a means of detection.’

‘But they are still looking for us?’ asked Roztov.

‘Yes, but they are trying to detect dragons disguised as men, which we are not. That may help us stay hidden. The feeling I get is that no one would ever believe that people would be powerful enough to fight dragons head on.’

‘Could be,’ mused Roztov. ‘Tomorrow, ask about why there so many empty and derelict apartments. Stovologard feels past its prime, I wonder what happened.’

‘I can, but I don’t think anyone knows. They keep no history and learning is not encouraged,’ replied Floran with a hint of scorn in his voice.

‘It is passing strange,’ said Roztov munching on a honey-coated biscuit. ‘I hope we get to stay long enough for me to understand how this city actually works.’

The next morning they ate breakfast together, sweet honey rolls and a form of jellied fruit that was thick and chewy.

‘They eat this for breakfast?’ asked Meggelaine. ‘It has an earthy taste. Blackberries went into this I think.’

‘Try one of these cakes, there is something that tastes like chocolate in it,’ said Floran passing over a paper bag.

‘This is good, I think that might actually be real cocoa in it, and some kind of fruit. When you go out, ask them what went into these will you?’

Floran bowed and said that he would. He was too polite to point out to Meggelaine that this was not information that anyone needed to achieve any of their current goals, just as he had not pointed out the night before to Roztov that his questions about social history and architecture were also of limited value to their current predicament. When he went out into the streets and talked to the friendly people there, in truth he spent a lot of his time talking of inconsequential matters. Floran was quiet by nature, and draconic was not his native tongue, but he felt he was doing his best. The first thing he planned to find out was how the pieces moved on the game board they had discovered in an abandoned apartment and what the symbols on all the playing cards meant.  

Floran was first to leave, taking two empty bags with him. As she tidied up the breakfast things, Meggelaine chatted away to her fellow druids. ‘Listen, I was thinking Roz, if you must go into that tower, why not find that girlfriend of yours and see if she can help us?’

‘Shumakkak?’ asked Roztov as he swallowed a mouthful of roll, ‘but she’s a chasm dragon, how can she help us here?’

‘Not her, you dolt, the other one!’

‘You mean Lorkuvan?’

‘Etruna’s love!’ groaned Meggelaine. ‘How many other dragon girlfriends do you have? Go find her, see if she can help.’

‘Yes,’ joined in Ghene.  ‘We need to know what’s going on. Roz, hunt down that dragon you shagged.’

Roztov put down the roll he was eating. ‘Ghene is using Stykian slang words on me now. Listen, you two. Firstly, I did not shag Lorkuvan. Secondly, she could be anywhere, and thirdly she may owe me a favour, but are dragons known for the returning of favours? Not that I know of.’

‘It’s worth a try though,’ said Meggelaine.

‘I agree. She’s a diplomat, correct? She must have some sense then. I’m sure if she’s in the tower we can find her. You should talk to her. Find out if she knows anything. We need to know what’s going on.’

‘Don’t get distracted,’ sighed Meggelaine. ‘If you find out anything about you-know-who that’s fine, but getting off this island is the most important thing. I can’t take much more of this and its Arrin and Tankle I feel sorry for.’

The conversation stopped for a while as Meggelaine joined the other two at the fire with three bottles of stout. They popped the corks and each took a swig.

‘Cheers. This is barely drinkable,’ said Roztov. ‘I could murder a cup of tea.’

‘Shagging dragons. Who is going to believe it when we get back?’ said Meggelaine in a sudden outburst of laughter. ‘Well, what was it like then? I’m surprised Broddor never asked you.’

‘He knew I am a gentleman,’ replied Roztov primly. ‘And I would never reveal the secrets between a man and err... a dragon. Well, regardless of the circumstances I hold it as a general rule never to bandy around a ladies name.’

‘Get her,’ said Meggelaine pointing her thumb at her friend. She was about to say something about what his wife’s opinion on the subject might be, but then thought better of it and held her tongue, something that for Meggelaine was a considerable achievement.

After they had finished breakfast, Ghene and Roztov returned to the tower of Stovologard once again, disguised as rock lizards. They split up and worked their way through the floors and stairwells, looking for anything they could find that might lead them to Lorkuvan.

Roztov thought they had no chance of finding her, reasoning that she might not even be in the tower anyway, so instead spent most of the day examining the architecture and asking the other rock lizards about it.

He was hanging out in the impressive entranceway of a dragon’s apartment when a tall man in expensive looking robes came out with a rolled up parchment and waved it at him. ‘You there!’ said the man. ‘You look like a fine fellow, can you deliver this for me?’

Roztov the rock lizard looked up at the man. ‘Where to?’

‘Three levels up, the apartment of Lady Fiewa. It has a blue door, ask for directions when you get to the third floor. You know your numbers?’

As the man talked he fastened a collar around Roztov’s neck then tucked the scroll into a slit in the leather.

‘No worries,’ said Roztov getting into character. ‘You can count on me, boss.’

‘Good chap, there will be a bowl of scraps in it for you.’

Roztov scampered off and had no great difficulty in finding the apartment of Lady Fiewa. It did indeed have a blue door, tall and decorated in lapis lazuli. He had no way of opening it, so merely scampering up it and through the ventilation gap above it into the courtyard beyond.

His breath was taken away by what he saw on the other side, a green marble space, with tall ferns and orchids growing in pots the size of cauldrons. There was a fountain in the middle of the space and the sound of trickling water drew him towards it. It was like being in the opulent garden of a Stykian noble. There were hundreds of plants, big and small, the marble columns had well tended ivy climbing up them, and there was even an area of grass near a set of tall windows. It was a whole other world from the smoky city just a few hundred meters below.

There was a young man re-potting plants not far from the fountain. He looked up as Roztov approached. ‘Yes?’

‘Message for Lady Fiewa, boss,’ he replied, pointing at the collar on his neck, still enjoying being in the character of a cheeky rock lizard.

‘Just go in,’ said the young man, pointing at a doorway with his trowel.

Roztov scampered up some steps and through the open doorway. There was an elegant corridor beyond it, with tall paintings mounted along one wall, landscapes depicting scenes from around the island of Tanud. Whoever had painted them had an eye for beautiful scenes, mused Roztov as he paused to admire them. Here was one of a quaint mountain village, with its tall roofs, there was one depicting a sunset over the Chasm, the Spire a silhouette in the distance.

He was admiring another picture, trying to figure out whereabouts it could be depicting when a female voice from the other end of the corridor spoke. ‘It’s the forest south of the Chasm, a mountain called Eldernarra is what you see in the distance. I’ve never known rock lizards to be interested in art.’

Roztov turned to see a tall lady, in her early sixties, dressed in a green velvet gown, with long white hair tied back in a braid. ‘Oh, sorry, lady. Got a message for you.’

Come into the study, said the lady as she turned and left. Roztov scampered along behind her and entered another, smaller, area that was also full of plants, but had a writing desk and several bookcases in one corner. There was an open window across from the desk that offered a view north across the city to the fog wall beyond the harbour. She went to it and beckoned him up onto the windowsill. He raised his head and she unfastened the collar from his neck.

‘Go to the kitchen my lad, the cook will give you some scraps.’

‘Oh aye, fair enough,’ said Roztov, but his eyes were still drawn to the view. There was a strong wind blowing from the south and this was the clearest view he had of the city since he had got here. It was incredibly impressive, in a ramshackle sort of way. He could see thousands of tenement buildings, there black roofs all leaning in on each other like drunks at a wake. His eyes followed the lines of the streets, he thought he could see where they had fought against Neith, then carefully he traced the route he thought led to where they were now living.

Lady Fiewa had finished reading her message and looked up. ‘You linger?’

‘I can see me house from here.’

‘You are an unusual sort of fellow for a rock lizard,’ she said as she walked back over to the window. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Err... Roztov.’

‘You are a city lizard?’

‘I guess so, probably,’ replied Roztov. ‘Tell you what though, how come you have such a fancy apartment, seeing are you are not a dragon? I like your garden.’

‘You do, do you?’ she said as she looked him in the eyes with a curious expression.

Roztov, realising he was probably slipping out of character hopped down from the windowsill and made for the door. ‘Anyway, kitchen, and all that. Cook, is it? Scraps, yummy yum yum.’

‘Just one moment,’ said the lady as she raised her arms to cast a spell. Yellow light surrounded Roztov and he gulped, ‘hey steady on’ as he turned to look at her.

As he turned, he grew taller, until he was a man again. He held up his hands, palms out to show he meant no harm. ‘I’m not here to cause trouble.’

He flinched as Lady Fiewa raised her hands to cast another spell.