D& D - Mystara 01 - Dragonlord of Mystara Read online

  Since all the seats were taken, Thelvyn joined Solveig and korinn as they stood discreetly off to one side. Solveig had the grace not to wear her rather fanciful barbaric armor, but he was remarkable enough under the best of circumstances. Sir George, who was still negotiating the proper drink with the innkeeper, looked even more unusual for the company he was keeping these days. The villagers had become used to him over the years, but now they saw him as he was, an old knight wearing a hook where his left hand should be and somehow less quaint than he usually seemed.

  "How have things been here at the village?" Sir George asked suddenly. Something about his tone suggested that he wasn't just making conversation.

  "Quite well, actually," the mayor conceded. "Spring was early this year, the weather has been good, and it's been peaceful."

  "Have you seen any dragons in the mountains?"

  Mayor Aalsten nearly jumped at the mention of dragons. "Good heavens, no . . . not in some years, as you know. Should we?"

  "I might as well come straight to the point," Sir George went on, seeing that he had already frightened the mayor quite enough. "We've come faster than the news itself, it seems, but word of it won't be far behind us. Bands of dragons have been attacking farms, mines, and even small villages in the far eastern frontier, up along the edge of the Wendarian Range leading into the Plains of Ethengar. So far they've stayed on the other side of Eastern Reach pass above the Colossus Mounts, so we are talking about a very remote region indeed."

  He was obliged to wait for a long moment; the elders

  were all too busy talking among themselves. Thelvyn was at least as frightened as the others looked. His first thought was that the dragons were looking for him.

  "Are the dragons headed in this direction?" Mayor Aalsten asked.

  "That I cannot say," Sir George admitted. "That depends on the reason why they have chosen to abandon their usual isolation and begin attacking settlements in organized bands. That's not normal behavior for dragons."

  "What's so unusual about dragons attacking settlements?" someone asked.

  Sir George shook his head. "What is unusual is dragons doing anything in organized bands. Dragons are typically loners. They'll work together only in response to what they perceive as major events, and they'll band together to fight only in response to major threats. I can't for my life imagine what could be going on in that part of this world that they would find threatening."

  "Could it be a response to our own recent settlements in those lands?" the mayor asked. "I wonder if the expansion of the frontier, especially all the mining in the mountains, is encroaching upon their territory."

  "No, I don't think so," Sir George answered. "The settlements are nothing new, nor the mining. There have been elves in those lands for thousands of years, and the Wendarian Range on up into the Northern Reaches was once a major branch of the nation of the gnomes, although they've mostly withdrawn into other parts of the world in the last few decades."

  "Then I have to ask one question," the mayor said. "Could this be in any way related to the events of almost sixteen years ago?"

  Sir George shook his head firmly. "No, I doubt that very much. At least not more than incidentally."

  "I'm not so certain of that," Mage Eddan commented, speaking for the first time. "We have no previous knowledge of this remarkable race that gave us Thelvyn and his mother, but I recall the tale of how his mother came to us across the mountains. The dragons either feared or hated her so much that they banded together to hunt her down, hut she possessed the magic to survive their attack. That leads me to suspect that his mother came from a race of extraordinarily powerful wizards, who might be locked in some ancient battle with the dragons."

  "If you think that I come from a race of powerful wizards, why were you so reluctant to teach me magic?" thelvyn asked.

  "I never dared . . . for your own sake," Eddan insisted. "Some races have practiced a particular form of magic for so long that it has become a part of their nature. Our own people have practiced fire magic so extensively that we no longer have the ability to do other types well. Teaching you an incompatible form of magic could have been disastrous for you."

  Thelvyn noticed that Sir George looked rather dubious hut elected to say nothing on that subject, so he did the

  same.

  "My point is this," Eddan continued. "The events of sixteen years ago and the present raids of dragons upon our settlements could very well be the incidental effects of an ancient war or rivalry previously unknown to this part of the world."

  "That may well be," Sir George agreed disinterestedly.

  "But what are we to do about it?" the mayor asked. "Have you heard of any way we can defend the village against these beasts?"

  "Dragons are not beasts," Sir George said. "Now, I know that you people have had little contact with real dragons. Most of the old stories describe them as great evil beasts that eat people and guard fabulous treasures. If some hero in a story needs a treasure or a magical item or is seeking a reputation as a warrior, all he needs to do is find a dragon to kill. But you should know that dragons are the oldest race in this world, that they are overall the most intelligent species, and that very few of them are evil. It's just that dragons keep to themselves. The only ones most people are likely to run in to are the evil ones out hunting for mischief."

  "That's no comfort," the mayor declared. "But what do we do about them if they come here?"

  "Just get out of the way," Sir George replied. "We don't have the magic or the force of arms here to fight even one dragon, at least not without considerable loss of life. My advice is this: The dragons are still far away, so don't worry about them too much. That's a matter for the archduke of the realm and the Council of Dukes and Wizards. But if word does come that dragons are headed this way, then you need to find a safe place where the people of the village can retreat, with a good store of supplies laid aside in the event the village is destroyed."

  Sir George did his best, but the villagers didn't want to hear what he was trying to tell them. They wanted to defend their homes, but the simple fact was that if the dragons did come in this direction, there was really nothing that anyone could do about it. After a time, he decided to stand back and allow them to argue the matter, since they obviously had no intention of following his advice. They were more inclined to demand that Duke Aalban do something about the defense of the frontier, or else give the archduke the authority to do something in the defense of all the Highlands. Privately Sir George told his companions that Duke Aalban, like the other dukes, would rather fight dragons himself than grant more power to the archduke.

  At last Sir George suggested to his companions that they should leave, since their knowledge and advice was no longer wanted. Night was falling, even though night came especially late by the middle of summer this far north. They retired to the den in Sir George's house, the only place he knew where he was likely to find a bottle of his favorite cherry liqueur. Thelvyn noticed that Solveig and Korinn seemed to find the Flaemish settlers about as irritating as he did.

  "I wonder why we even bothered," Sir George commented when he had sunk into his favorite chair with a small drink in hand, tapping the wooden arm of the chair with the tip of his hook. "For all the good it did, they might just as well have waited until the duke sees fit to tell them about the dragons."

  "Will they follow your advice?" Korinn asked. Being a dwarf, perhaps he was used to hard heads.

  "Oh, I imagine they will—if the dragons come any closer and they've had the time to decide that it was their own idea. The trouble is that I have no idea whether the dragons do have some purpose in mind, or if they're just attacking everything in their neighborhood."

  "Are they looking for my mother or me?" Thelvyn asked. " I know you might not have wanted to admit that to the village council, knowing how suspicious of strangers the Flaem are anyway."

  "You really have had your fill of them, haven't you?" Sir George asked. "No, my answer to the question was my honest one. If for whatever reason the dragons had decided to resume the hunt for you or your mother, they would have remembered where to look. The fact that they are two hundred miles away and not here suggests to me that the events are not related."

  "What about Mage Eddan's theories about my race?" Thelvyn asked. "Could there be some ancient war between my people and the dragons?"

  "I find that very unlikely," Sir George insisted. "As you may guess, I know a thing or two about dragons. Nearly everything most people know about dragons comes from the stories they've heard, which tell about how fierce dragons are, but the hero always kills the dragon in the end because that's the way stories work. But in real life, the dragon almost always wins. Aside from the fact that dragons are big, fast, and well armored, they are also highly intelligent, and they tend to live a very long time. That makes mature dragons the most powerful and experienced magic-users in the world. I can't imagine any other race making a specialty of fighting dragons."

  "That might explain why this mysterious race of Thelvyn's is so rare," Korinn commented dryly.

  "I've been told that my mother defended herself against a band of dragons and defeated them," Thelvyn pointed out.

  "She didn't defeat them. She eluded them," Sir George said. "That isn't quite the same thing, although I must admit that it still showed remarkable ability on her part. Still, I wonder. I've tried to arrange for a teacher for you, a magic-user who is not of the Flaem, but things haven't yet worked out. Have you been reading those books on magic I gave you?"

  "Oh, yes," Thelvyn said. "I've had a problem finding time to practice much, but I've learned five of the basic spells already."

  He cast a spell of light on Sir George's hook, causing it to glow brightly. The old knight reacted w
ith such alarm that Thelvyn was afraid he had done something wrong.

  "Whoa, hold it a minute!" Sir George declared, removing his hook and burying it beneath the cushion of his chair until the spell faded. "What do you mean when you say you've learned five spells? I only gave you books on the history and general theory of magic. There couldn't have been any actual spells in those books."

  "But there were ... in the black spellbook," Thelvyn insisted.

  "What spellbook?" Sir George asked. "I've never had an extra spellbook, so I'm sure that there couldn't have been one among the books I gave you. You can't just pick up someone else's spellbook and begin using it anyway."

  "I've never heard of anyone being able to teach himself, either," Solveig added.

  "Well, there are certain special situations, such as when either the individual or his race is strongly inclined toward the use of magic," Sir George said. Then he looked very thoughtful. He seemed to lose all inclination to argue the matter further. Thelvyn watched him for a moment, suspecting that he might have guessed where that spellbook came from.

  "Whether Thelvyn's people are involved in this or not, the problem right now is the dragons," Korinn said. "Do you have any idea why they are attacking?"

  Sir George shook his head. "It's too complicated to guess. Indeed I wonder if we will ever know. If it turns out to be only reds and blacks, then I'm not greatly concerned. They could be squabbling with each other or with the goblins or kobolds over the spoils of the ancient settlements of the gnomes in the mountains, although most of those settlements are either failing or already abandoned. Or they could lust be in the process of putting down a renegade who has gotten completely out of hand. Renegades are insane by definition anyway."

  He noticed that Thelvyn seemed to be full of questions. " lad, dragons are a very proud race, and it is their pride as much as their loyalty to their Immortal, known to others only as the Great One, that binds them as a race and a nation. Now, within the greater Nation of Dragons are the Hidden Kingdoms of the Dragons, in which dragons of similar type will pledge their allegiance to each other under a particularly wise or capable leader, for their mutual prosperity and protection. Even the chaotic reds, greens, and blacks usually don't dare break draconic law.

  "But there are always the renegades—violent, greedy dragons so swollen with self-pride that they aspire to make themselves into kings or even Immortals. They build support by subduing lesser dragons, usually those as evil and mad as themselves. But if a renegade begins attacking dragons belonging to one of the Hidden Kingdoms, then the other dragons will band together and put down the renegade and his cohorts. Of course, since most dragons keep to themselves, these renegades are about the only dragons that the rest of the world knows about. As far as most people are aware, all dragons behave like renegades."

  "Are there any circumstances when a Kingdom of Dragons would make war upon other races?" Korinn asked.

  "Only in self-defense, or in retaliation for an especially evil deed that has been perpetrated against them," Sir George said. "All I can think of is that the Wizards of the Flaem might have done something to provoke the dragons, something that is not yet common knowledge. They're an arrogant lot, and they can be so single-minded in their hatred of the Alphatians that they might try something especially stupid, like trying to capture dragons to use as battle mounts. I can be more certain about the situation when I know what breeds of dragons are involved."

  "Meaning the golds?" Solveig asked.

  Sir George nodded slowly. "If the golds are involved, this would have to be nothing short of war."

  CHAPTER THREE

  If the wiser minds of the village had been trying to convince themselves that Sir George had been wrong on the subject of dragons and their recent activities, the next morning found the arrival of information that was even harder to dispute. A company of Duke Aalban's own soldiers, under the lead of a young captain who was tall, handsome, and very much under the impression that he was talking to a bunch of stupid rustics rode into Graez later that morning.

  Thelvyn had been running an errand for the smith and had seen their arrival at the garrison, and he found the entire scene to be vaguely amusing and satisfying. If the Flaem could act aloof and superior even to each other on the slightest pretext, then imagine the attitude of one small frontier settlement toward the populace of a slightly newer, smaller frontier settlement. What Thelvyn found most interesting of all was that Flaemish hierarchies were so well established that the mayor and his friends seemed to recognize, and even accept, their inferior lot.

  The captain of the duke's company had little enough to say, and none of it was particularly reassuring. Bands of red ilragons were attacking settlements, farms, and mines on the far northeastern frontier. They had also been harassing the lithengar nomads. It didn't yet seem to be a state of open war, since the dragons could easily have done more damage than they had, so this so far this was considered to be only an incident. In spite of the villagers' expectations, the captain's company wasn't under orders to stay and reinforce the local garrison. The soldiers were needed to the northeast, where the dragons were most likely to attack first.

  All citizens were advised to be cautious. The village, the farms, and the mines were to avoid calling attention to themselves, and to that end, they were advised to light no large fires during the night and to shutter their windows. All travelers were to hasten as quickly as possible through open areas and to be cautious with their own fires at night. So declared Duke Aalban, who was confident of his ability to handle the situation.

  When Thelvyn brought him this news, Sir George seemed rather amused by it all. "Very much what I predicted. Duke Aalban knows that he can't handle dragons, but he also doesn't want to grant any greater powers to the archduke. The only way he can manage this 'incident' is if it does in fact go away."

  "I don't understand," Thelvyn protested. "Why is Duke Aalban afraid of the archduke? Doesn't he already owe full allegiance to him?"

  "You're thinking of how the matter of kingdoms usually works," Sir George told him. He was sitting in his favorite chair in his den, contemplating a bottle of cherry liqueur— not drinking it, just contemplating the unopened bottle. "This is the way things work among the Flaem, at least as far as I have been able to tell, and I'm not entirely certain that even they understand it any better. Traditionally the rule has always been a matter of balance between the king and the fire wizards.

  "But the Flaem had been wandering for hundreds of years in some pretty strange places before they came into this world. During that time, they had traveled in large bands under the leadership of the men we call the dukes, in the more ancient definition of a duke as a war leader or great captain, not as a title of traditional nobility. They couldn't very well maintain a true kingdom during this age of wandering, and I suspect they were really only bound together by their tremendous hatred of the Alphatians and their desire to find and defeat their ancient enemy. But you know about that, I suppose."

  "That's what they taught me in school," Thelvyn agreed. "The Flaem and the Alphatians fought a great war, so great that it destroyed their own world. Survivors from both sides escaped through gates into other worlds. The Alphatians arrived first, fifteen centuries ago, and have established a great empire in the east. The Flaem arrived only some hundred years ago. Now that they have found their ancient enemy, they will stay here until they have become strong enough to renew the war, and just as likely destroy this world in the process."

  "A long, long time will pass before the Flaem are able to fight Alphatia ... if ever," Solveig White-Gold said. "The Alphatians are an empire equal to Thyatis, while the Flaem are still a very small, rustic, impoverished band of vagabonds."

  "Most likely the Alphatians will find and crush the Flaem long before that happens," Sir George added. "For one thing, however much they desire it, the Flaem themselves are not cooperating much in the plan to build their own great kingdom. The dukes were their only leaders all through the age of wandering, and they don't want to see that change. They all want to be the king, but they don't want anyone else becoming king.