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  The dragons brought something else to the humanoid races: protection. Although they did not generally interfere with the natural development of cultures, they would always step in when the balance of numbers seemed threatened. Generally, each race had one dragon who would watch over them, periodically helping or nudging them in a positive direction. Deccon the Fierce was the dragon assigned to the dwarven race. The dragons would normally appear in humanoid form, although on special occasions they would appear as themselves: Massive dragons. In humanoid form, there was no mistaking who they were. They all had distinctive, easily recognized features.

  Deccon stood 6’6” tall and wore golden colored robes. He never appeared with any kind of weapon and never any armor. He was at least as muscular as Grognor and exactly one foot taller. He had waist length golden blonde hair that would glisten in the sunlight, purple eyes, and a powerful voice. Grognor tried all his life to emulate the deep, loud voice that Deccon had, and never seemed to come close. Deccon could speak to the entire population of Deepforge without an assembly or public address system.

  So it was. The Deepforge Empire ruled the known world, wars were a constant threat, and dragons kept the races from wiping each other out.

  Little did the citizens of Deepforge Empire know that their world was about to be invaded by a sinister force bent on destruction. What happened next would change the history of Ahl-Thoor-Hees.

  Chapter 2

  “Get me the human ambassador,” Grognor said, motioning to his assistant. He sat in his comfortable chair twirling an icosahedron made of the rare metal mithril with his fingers. It was a twenty sided die with numbers carved into the faces normally used for playing games.

  “Yes, Sire.” The assistant picked up the telephone handset and quickly dialed the number. “Is this Ambassador Taylen? Chieftain Grognor would like to speak with you. Thank you, Sir.” He handed the handset to Grognor.

  “Ambassador Taylen?”

  “Yes, Chieftain, this is Ambassador Taylen Riehl of Lakeshore, what can I do for you today?”

  “What are your people’s plans for the Spring Games?”

  “The Spring Games? Well, the usual. Archery, sword play…why do you ask?”

  “Ambassador, as you know, Deccon the Fierce has forbid us to war against each other. I would like to take that a step further and have Deepforge represented in the games. Would that be possible?” Grognor asked, nearly choking on the words. He could hardly believe he was even considering having Deepforge participate in the humans’ yearly sporting event. But, he had discovered a greater quest and it hinged on the humans’ cooperation. He fought back his urge to vomit.

  Peace was not what Grognor wanted. He wanted to exterminate the human scourge, avenge his father, and claim the villages for the ever expanding dwarven population. A world free of humans was a perfect world in his eyes. Making such a gesture to actually participate in their exercise of absolute futility the Spring Games made him sick.

  Ambassador Taylen Riehl was a smart man and realized almost instantly what Grognor was doing. It was more than just a gesture to please the dragons. It was a way for the dwarves to exercise their dominance in another arena, one of games instead of war. He realized something else, too. This would also be an excellent way to humiliate the arrogant dwarves on a neutral field. One with rules more strict than the rules of war, and one where death was not the objective, rather the proof of superior skill. The prospect filled his heart with a certain amount of hope, for this could be the catalyst of change, one where humans would finally be seen as equals, not ‘scourge’. “Chieftain, I think that’s an excellent idea. I’ll talk to the games’ council at once.”

  “Thank you, Ambassador.” Grognor gave the handset to Travlgnal and reclined in his massive chair.

  Teelena, the lovely female assistant, brought in Grognor’s afternoon snack. She and the Emperor exchanged warm smiles.

  “Thank you, Teelena. You always know when I’m craving roasted herd animal.” Grognor winked at her.

  She giggled. “No, Sire. You have it scheduled, remember?”

  Grognor chuckled and tore into the scorched meat. He admired her intense curves and lightly colored, short beard.

  “Sire…if I may?” Travlgnal hung up the phone and looked at the Chieftain/Emperor with confusion.

  “What is it?”

  “Forgive me for asking, Sire, but…couldn’t you have simply ordered it so? I mean, did you really have to ask?”

  “Travlgnal, my trusted assistant. You’re family’s from the Stone Village, is it not?”

  “Yes, Sire. We were one of the original inhabitants. My forefathers helped cut the first stones.”

  Grognor smiled and nodded. “Your village finally forced the green dragons, the last of the chromatics, into the northern mountains with the white, did you not?”

  “Yes, Sire. My great, great, great grandparents were involved in that war. It’s one of our greatest triumphs.”

  “Did you ever think that your ancestors would have considered another way of resolving the conflict, I mean besides fighting?”

  Travlgnal frowned, confused. “What other options? The chromatic dragons laid waste to dozens of villages, without provocation.”

  “Yes, and how did it come to pass that your ancestors were in a position to turn the tides?”

  Travlgnal saw where this conversation was going, and what Grognor’s point was. “The whites were taken out by Deccon.” He smiled and nodded.

  “Exactly. Deccon nearly wiped out the white dragons so your ancestors could have a fighting chance. He didn’t kill them all, just enough to turn the tides in your favor. Do you know the epic of Markog Drgoodondt?”

  “Oh, I love those stories,” Teelena said as she poured Grognor a fresh flagon of beer.

  “Yes, Sire. I know it well,” Travlgnal said.

  “Tell me the story of Fayla the Just.”

  Travlgnal chuckled, amused and impressed with his Chieftain’s method of instruction, and his completeness of making a point. “So Markog Drgoodondt and his party of explorers had just reached the peak of the western mountains when a massive red beast rose up in front of them. It was a dragon. As the explorers prepared for battle, an even more massive silver dragon rose up from behind the red and attacked it, drawing it away from the explorers.”

  “That was Fayla the Just.” Grognor smiled.

  “That magnificent creature was killed that day as the chromatic dragons ganged up and tore her apart. The distraction saved Markog’s life and the lives of the explorers.” Travlgnal held his head down in reverence to the noble dragon who gave her life to save the explorers. “Even today the name ‘Fayla’, and similar names are used for female offspring in her honor. It is said that some day, another silver dragon named Fayla would become a god and help bring our world into the realm of the gods themselves.”

  “My great grandmother is named Fayla,” Teelena said.

  “So,” started Grognor, “when Deccon says we’re supposed to make peace with our worst enemy, we do so without question. We don’t demand anything; we cooperate with them…as much as it may turn my stomach.”

  “The ancient prophesy.” Travlgnal smiled, remembering the bedtime stories his mother used to tell.

  “You know Travlgnal, some people say the prophesy is that; a true prophesy. Not just a bedtime story.”

  “Yes, Sire, I know. My parents still believe that. Have you ever asked Deccon for his take on the ancient prophecy?”

  “I did once. He smiled and didn’t answer. I guess some things are best not discussed with the dragons, unless they want to.”

  “Will there be anything else, Sire?” Travlgnal asked as he stood with Teelena awaiting orders.

  Grognor sighed. “No, you two. That will be all for now.” He stood up and walked into the already waiting Chieftain’s council where the crier announced his presence. They all rose with respect, and then sat down as he did. “Thank you all for coming. I wanted to let you know first wha
t I have decided, and get your opinions.”

  The dwarven chieftains looked at each other and back to Grognor with anticipation.

  “What is it, Sire?” James Fizzlecopper, chieftain of the Fieldstone Copperminers’ clan asked.

  “I’ve decided to have the dwarves represented in the humans’ spring games,” Grognor said, matter-of-factly.

  The council erupted in protest as they unanimously opposed the decision.

  Grognor raised his hand, and the council immediately quieted down. “Round table discussion,” he said.

  Chieftain Igneous stood up, being the first. “The Stone Village stands opposed of this decision, on the grounds that humans are the scourge of the world. Any dealings with them should be an extermination detail, not silly games!” he said, scowling in disgust.

  They all voiced agreement.

  Chieftain Fizzlecopper stood up next. “Chieftain Igneous speaks for all of us, and we thought you as well. We have to have a regular Deepforge regiment protecting our copper mine in the far east from the constant human raids. The Fieldstone Copperminers are a peaceful people, and we are not prepared for this sort of thing. I think the best thing for all of us would be total extinction of this…human scourge. We protest participation in the games.” He sat down.

  Chieftain Tergon of the Lake stood up next. “I can attest to the fact that, without a resident Deepforge presence at the Great Lake, power generation and irrigation from the reservoir would cease. We would have to spend our time fighting off these humans. We protest as well.” He sat down.

  Chieftain Hawkson, gnome Chieftain of Hawkflight industrial city, stood up and jumped onto the table. He was livid, but paused to bow at Grognor before beginning his rant. “We at Hawkflight Industries would like to lodge our formal protest to this action of playing games with the lowest form of life- the disgusting, dirty primates known as humans. Not only are they a worthless waste of air, but they are the worst form of creature ever to slither upon our precious River Valley. They consume resources at an alarming rate, and do not pay their way. They are a constant source of trouble, and if they were not enough, they have succeeded in corrupting our cousin race the halflings. Their sick, perverted cultures have now merged. I once thought that, at the very least, we could save the once honorable halflings from these disgusting humans. Now, that seems impossible. They reproduce at an alarming rate, and continue to expand their villages exponentially. I fear if we don’t do something soon, we’ll be overrun by them. Hell, even the elves have gone into hiding to get away from the high stench of the human scourge. Yes, Chieftain, we know Deccon has forbid us to make war upon them, and we shall never question the wisdom of the immortal metallic dragons. However, I refuse to be involved with any plan to play with them, or socialize with them in any way. Thank you.” He bowed again and jumped down to his chair.

  The council erupted with applause and vocalizations of hardy agreement. Grognor let the council continue their open discussion before putting up his hand again to let the rest of the members voice their official opinions.

  Chieftain Berglond spoke next, “We of the Gold Diggers Mining Village formally protest this decision to play with the humans.”

  Chieftain Garnet spoke next, “Gemstone Village refuses to comply with such a mandate. We formally protest.”

  Chieftain Windt spoke next, “Black Powder Associated villages do doth protest playing with the humans.”

  So it went. It was unanimous; all the council chieftains refused Grognor’s decision.

  “That’s fine, and an expected reaction,” Grognor began, “that’s why I have further decided to compete personally. I will not force any of you to participate.”

  Once again the council erupted in protest.

  Grognor chuckled and raised his hand, causing them to quiet down. “Now, I know, I know. But, just listen to me. These humans killed my father in an attempted raid on a gnome village. I know several of you lost family members in that war as well, and were the first to volunteer to war against them in an exterminating mission. But, as you know, Deccon stepped in to stop us. Now, he didn’t say we couldn’t fight them, he only wanted to stop an all-out war that we would have certainly won. You all know as well as I do that the dragons don’t step in unless it’s of the utmost importance. The humans are important to the dragons, as are we. They won’t tell us why, but it’s almost certainly something to do with the prophecy.”

  “The prophecy,” Windt said, scoffing.

  “There has to be something to it. Some of the scholars of North Mountain University have told me there is more than enough evidence that this prophecy will come to pass. The World History Department Head personally showed me the graphic I’m about to show you.” He nodded to an assistant, and she flipped a switch. Projected on the wall-sized display screen was the graphic in question. It showed all the recorded interventions of the dragons, and the resulting world changes. Grognor then stepped up and assumed his instructor mode. “As you can see, every time they’ve intervened,” he said as he pointed at the large graphic with a long stick, “something major happened to everyone’s benefit. Here you can see when Fayla the Just, the silver dragon, insisted the Hawkflight gnomes continue to fight against their rivals the Savanna gnomes. Only a few years later, the battle resulted in the development of copper smelting. Here’s when Brandon the Handsome, the bronze dragon, refused to let us dig anywhere else but the large hard stony outcrop to the east. That resulted in the Fieldstone dwarves discovering the strange green metal we all know as copper. They still mine there even now, and are responsible for mining most of the copper used today, smelted by Hawkflight.

  “There are numerous instances, as you can see. This one is my favorite, by far. This one goes back to the dawn of our arrival on this world.” He pointed to the very first instance of a dragon intervening.

  Everyone chuckled and took a drink of their large flagons of beer.

  “Deccon and the Bloom of Ahl-Thoor-Hees,” Chieftain Berglond said as he raised his flagon, “here’s to Deccon!”

  Everyone drank in honor of the single most important discovery the world had ever known: The Bloom of Ahl-Thoor-Hees.

  The Bloom of Ahl-Thoor-Hees was seen as the universal symbol of life, as it was the very first cultivated plant in history. This plant crop became the staple of all manner of food, and helped save civilization in ancient history by providing a very healthy, sterile drink. It was called beer. The bloom itself was brewed in a semi-complicated process involving various grains, and required the boiling of large vats of water. This killed any deadly pathogen, and became the nutritious beverage. It was also a source of many other products, including certain types of bread. This eventually spawned a whole new way of life, the life of the farmer. This plant saved the world from starvation and disease, and became the symbol of life. Everyone at the council table knew the history well and routinely drank to Deccon at their dinner meals. They all spontaneously broke out in the song of Deccon and the Bloom:

  A long time ago,

  When we were on the brink.

  Death loomed over us,

  And we had naught to drink.

  Along came a dragon,

  And he pulled us from the doom!

  All raise a flagon and

  Toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  Toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  Toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  The Bloom of Ahl-Thoor-Hees,

  Oh, toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  Deccon was a dragon,

  and the fiercest of them all

  to him we raise our flagons

  for ‘twas he who saved us all!

  Toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  Toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  The Bloom of Ahl-Thoor-Hees,

  Oh, toast to Deccon’s bloom!

  “Chieftain, we all know this, but our protests remain. My point being, the dragons did not specifically say we had to play with the humans, just not wipe them out,” Chieftain Fizzlecopper insisted.


  Grognor continued pointing to the projected image on the wall, explaining, “There are a couple of things on here that don’t add up, and this leads to the current situation we are in. Here we have Fayla the Just giving her life to protect Markog Drgoodondt and his party of explorers. You’ll notice there is a disconnect here, with no obvious result to our lives, and then here we have Deccon stopping us from wiping out the humans. No continuity there, either.” He waited for everyone to chime in, and none did. They sat quiet, waiting for him to continue. He nodded his to assistant, and she changed the projected image. “This is the only remaining artifact of Markog Drgoodondt. This is an ancient scroll which shows his travels, journals, and maps of our continent. Besides the few descriptions of his travels and his ultimate fate, we have nothing else. No great riches were ever found, no lost civilizations, nothing. It was a life of heartache for the explorer. So, this begs the question; why would a dragon give her life to save Markog? What’s so special about him?”

  The council began quietly discussing the issue, and none could answer the question. None had ever answered this pointed question. It had been a mystery for all history since.

  “Well,” Grognor began, “I now know the answer.”

  The council erupted with demands for the answer. “What is it? What’s the answer?” was asked numerous times.

  Grognor smiled and turned toward the screen. “We’ve been looking at it the whole time. It’s the map itself. It stands to reason that if the only thing left behind by a dwarf so important a dragon would sacrifice herself to save, then the map itself must be the key. We have been given a great gift. Knowledge of the layout of our continent. We are meant to explore further. Something important awaits us out there, something yet to be discovered.”

  The council once again erupted in conversation as the chieftains hotly debated the subject. Then one of them remembered the original conversation.