A TALL TALE

J.L. Collins

The Year of the Tankard (1370 DR)

Flickering torches mounted on a pair of poles were the only guide for their eyes as they approached the decrepit barn. Once used for storage for the remote lumber camp, it had become home to old, worn out equipment, hay, and as refuge once a year for a peculiar traveling caravan.

They approached in silence, their voices having fallen in unsure expectation of what might await them inside. Myth, legend, rumors, each they knew well enough, but would they actually see what lived only in their imaginations? In their nightmares? The forest was quiet, and though their feet knew the paths and treeswell, their pace slowed, expectation turning to hesitation leading only to doubt, and fear.

The peeling paint and warped wood walls, once comforting reminders of seasons past, had become as eerie as the walls of a crumbled keep, with secrets etched into every stone. More than once they looked over their shoulders for eyes that were not there. They knew it was foolishness to expect to find anyone else in their isolated home, yet on that night they did not feel alone at all…

"I've seen a dragon!" exclaimed Nollo, an excited grin evident on his young face.

The three other boys, along with the half-elf girl, exchanged looks ranging from amusement to irritation at the claim. McDodd, as expected, was the first to voice his disbelief.

"The closest thing you've seen to a dragon, wagon-boy, is a sand snake bitin' you in your rear when you dropped your breeches to wet the sand!" The biggest of the boys, McDodd often used his size to intimidate the others into agreeing with him. It rarely worked.

Craster giggled, and though he was as small and skinny as Nollo he was filthy compared to the young boy's groomed appearance. His laugh regularly followed McDodd's biting remarks. Nollo frowned at McDodd's rebuttal. Though a few years younger, he did not back down from the larger boy's taunts.

"I have too seen a dragon. I even fed it! And they're called wyrms!" Nollo bit back the rest of his reply, as though realizing he might be saying too much.

McDodd inhaled, preparing another sarcastic remark when Kirsk held up his hand, causing the bigger boy to exhale sharply.

"What? You think he's actually tellin' the truth? He's as big a liar as his father," McDodd said.

He couldn't resist challenging Kirsk's attempt to silence him. Though physically bigger, McDodd stopped short of intimidating him into agreement, as Kirsk's quiet confidence unnerved the braggart. Kirsk glanced at the half-elf girl Syndar, catching her gaze with his deep blue, nearly black eyes, before turning back to Nollo.

"Tell us about your dragon, Nollo, and what you fed it." Kirsk's words were spoken with a gentle encouragement.

Nollo smiled and said, "I gave it deer meat, and some fish left over from my father's cooking pot. It was really hungry, so I stole another fish from the bucket, feeding it to him whole. His teeth were so big, he bit it in half and swallowed both bites at once!"

Nollo used his fingers to mimic the gaping jaws of his dinner companion.

McDodd could not hold back. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, and Craster says a lot of stupid things."

Craster started laughing at McDodd's comment then sheepishly scratched the back of his neck with his black fingernails. He looked the beggar in his tattered breeches and patchwork tunic.

McDodd continued, "Everyone knows dragons eat cows, horses, and elves. Especially elves." His mouth turned into a cruel smile as he leered at Syndar.

She met McDodd's gaze evenly and said, "The only stupid one McDodd is you. A dragon wouldn't even eat you because you're so stupid. Dragons eat wild animals that roam too close to their lair. They even raid the occasional orchard if they want some sweet fruit. My mother told me about dragons from a book she keeps." Syndar spoke with the voice of a girl trying to be a woman, surrounded by boys who were not yet men. Kirsk smiled as she stuck her tongue out at McDodd who was shaking his head.

"Explain to me again why we let her up in our tree? Fruit? Is she saying dragons eat fruit? I think elves have fruit between their ears. It rots, becoming soft and mushy." McDodd gestured to his ear as he spoke. "Your mother won't know, she left the elven kingdoms to come live in a stupid boring lumber camp. I doubt she even owns a book. What good are books in a lumber camp? Next you're going to say that she's still teachin' you magic too, right?"

"She is you dullard! One day I'll turn you into toad and you'll beg me to turn you back, but I won't, because all I'll hear is some stupid frog and I'll kick you into a puddle and forget all about you."

Syndar's face turned an angry pink, and though blessed with the ageless beauty and grace of her elf mother, she already demonstrated the temper and strong-willed nature of her human father.

Kirsk intervened. "Leave it be, McDodd. If Syndar says she knows magic, then one day she'll show us. Nollo is our guest in the tree, let him finish his story."

Kirsk waited for McDodd to press the issue, but the bully relented, glaring before punching Nollo in the arm.

"You heard 'im. So what else did your dragon eat? Some of those stupid animals your father tries passing off as monsters? He should be arrested."

Nollo rubbed his arm. "No, he curled up and went to sleep."

Kirsk's curiosity got the better of him. "Nollo, dragons don't usually eat fish fed to them by humans. Why didn't the dragon didn't eat you instead?"

"Because he was caged," Nollo said. "I wouldn't feed a dragon if it wasn't caged. That's stupid."

His reply was so immediate, Kirsk almost believed him.

Craster laughed again, prompting McDodd to punch him.

"A cage?" McDodd pressed. "I doubt you saw a dragon in a cage. They happen to be as big as a castle and fly so high you can't see them."

McDodd waited for the boy's reply then looked surprised when Syndar supported the braggart.

"Nollo, that's a tall tale and you know it," she said. "Dragons are too strong. If they can carry a horse and rider into the air, they could break out of a cage pretty easy."

She smiled at the young boy, as if to encourage his story while keeping him honest.

Nollo sighed, staring out as a warm breeze wafted through the framed window of the tree house. A lantern on the floor cast shadows along the wall.

"You can keep them in cages if they're small enough," Nollo replied, his voice so quiet the others almost missed it.

"What do you mean small enough?" Kirsk persisted. "You mean like a baby dragon?"

Nollo glanced up, nervous, nodding slowly.

Kirsk smiled and asked, "Where is this baby dragon then?"

Nollo pulled a knife from the pocket of his soft breeches. Elegantly dressed with his embroidered shirt, he wiped some dirt from his polished boots and notched the wood by his feet.

"Not 'posed to say," he said. "My pappy would get mad."

McDodd opened his mouth, but Syndar spoke first. "Was it one of the carnivals back east? You said your father took you 'round the southern edge of the desert. My mother says tribes of men and wandering tent cities live within sight of the sands. Is that where you saw it?"

Nollo shook his head in silent disagreement, stabbing at the floor of the tree house.

To the surprise of all, Craster uttered their unspoken question: "You sayin' yer pappy got a caged dragon up in that barn?"

Nollo looked up too quickly, his expression betraying him.

"Who told you that?" the boy asked. "There's no dragon, I just… I saw one once. You're lying!"

Kirsk reached out a calloused hand to Nollo's shoulder and said, "It's all right Nollo, we know what's in the barn. Every year you and your father spend a tenday restocking for the journey west toward the Sword Coast. Every year we share tales, and every year you tell us about the beasts, wizards, and barbarians you encounter. We don't care if it's true, we just like your stories. It's better than listening to McDodd burp and break wind everyday, for sure."

Both Syndar and Craster laughed, causing the bigger boy to turn red, threatening Kirsk with a punch. Craster switched sides and encouraged the fight.

"Yeah, knock 'im, McDodd. Knock his teeth in!"

Syndar rolled her eyes, and Kirsk sat motionless, familiar with the bully's threats.

"One day, Kirsk," McDodd threatened even as he lowered his arm. "One day you'll get what's coming."

Ignoring the bully, Kirsk regarded Nollo and said, "Tell us about the barn. Your father must have something special if you aren't supposed to tell anyone. What is it? A talking bird? You swore once you had a talking bird, but when we went to see it, he just pooped in Craster's hair. That was funny, only because Craster did all the talking."

Syndar giggled at the familiar story, and McDodd punched Craster in the arm just because.

"Nothin' special. Just… animals," Nollo mumbled, looking out the window.

McDodd finally found a target for his frustration. "Ha! Just like the time you told us you had a beholder-a floating eye sack that could turn us to stone. 'Cept when we arrived, it wasn't floating, or wavin' its eyes around. Just some pumpkins that grew into a giant pumpkin, with a rotted hole for a mouth, and stems you swore were once eye stalks. Last year, you swore your pap had a drow girl in a cage. Syndar was so scared she wouldn't go into the barn. She believed you, but I knew better. Funny how the evil dark elf was actually Grapper's daughter covered in dirt and soot. A chimney sweep's daughter paid to pretend she was drow. Your pappy is so cheap, he didn't even give her fake ears!"

McDodd laughed with Craster joining in. Teh, yer pap is cheap! And stupid!"

Nollo flushed red, his embarrassment becoming anger at the taunts.

"You're all just stupid tree-cutters!" Nollo shouted. "You wouldn't know a dwarf from a gnome from a halfling. I have fed a dragon. I did it tonight. And I said they're called wyrms!"

He stopped his outburst, seeing looks of surprise from the four local youth. They had never heard him so angry before.

"I… I should go," Nollo said. "My pappy is mad if I'm late two nights in a row."

As he started for the rope ladder hanging from the side of the tree house, Kirsk's gentle hand paused him.

"Do you really have a baby dragon in the barn?"

Nollo stammered out his reply. "Y-yes."

"Well, I give the kid respect," said McDodd. "Three lies in three years, and each bigger than the last."

Kirsk looked back to Syndar, who voiced everyone's thoughts: "Let's go see it."

Nollo shook his head and said, "No! I promised my pappy I wouldn't tell. It's his big surprise for carnival this year. Every year he gets mad when no one comes to see his animals, so he said he'll get something so special, they'll beg him to stay and run the show all year long. Please, I won't be able to sit for a month if he finds out."

The others looked to each other as McDodd said, "I'll go, just to prove what a liar you are."

Nollo looked to Kirsk, his expression changing as a new thought emerged.

"If he thinks I'm a liar, then I'll prove him wrong. 'Cept you all have to pay a coin each to see it. Two if you want a touch." Nollo grinned, secure in the knowledge his father couldn't be sore if he turned profit like he was taught to.

Craster whined, "I ain't got no coins."

McDodd punched him, right in the same spot, and said, "Yer stupid. We ain't payin' no coins to see a lizard in a cage. I'll bet you it's a lizard with wings of cloth, 'cause his pap is stupid and cheap."

Craster winced as he rubbed his arm. "Yeh, stupid and cheap."

Kirsk shared a secret smile with Syndar before gesturing to the open night before them.

"Here's the deal Nollo," he said. "You take us to the barn, and show us your dragon. We'll pay you a coin each if we agree it's real." McDodd started to swear but Syndar pinched him as Kirsk finished, "In fact, if you have any fish left, I'll pay an extra coin to feed it myself. Is that fair, 0 carnival master?"

Nollo smiled at the title, swinging onto the ladder. "Sure is! Better count your fingers though, you might not have them all when you're done!"

The young boy nimbly climbed down as Kirsk helped Syndar find her footing on the ladder. The pair exchanged another glance as Craster blew out the lantern, the night swallowing them.

Nollo led them to the warped peeling doors of the barn, wincing as the rusted hinges moaned when opened. Inside, the musty smell of hay, horses, and lantern oil greeted them. Poorly lit, they could hear the whinny of the caravan horses. Nollo crept forward, taking them around the back of one of the wagons, to a shroud-covered cage.

Nollo turned back to face them and said, "Remember, one coin each for a look, two if you want to touch it."

McDodd shook his fist as he spoke. "I'll give you two of something else if you don't hurry up."

Nollo ignored the threat, puffing out his chest in preparation for his performance. "In all the realms there is no monster so fearsome, no danger so… so… dangerous, no beast so horrible that they cause fear by their very name!"

Nollo gestured grandly as Syndar whispered to Kirsk, "Can a dragon be fearsome and horrible at the same time?"

Kirsk smirked as Nollo's voice rose. "Cast away your eyes gentle folk, for you dare not see what I am about to show…"

But McDodd had had enough. He pushed the smaller boy out of the way, and grabbed the shroud and yanked it off, revealing a battered steel cage. The bars were warped from repeated blows, and the top of the cage was punctured from dozens of rents and tears. The cage was more fascinating than the mottled brown creature curled up inside it. Dull scales adorned the torso, and a long thick tail curled tight to the sleeping body.

"Gods, the stink!" McDodd said as he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "That's the ugliest lizard I ever saw."

Nollo unsuccessfully tried pushing the burly McDodd back.

"It's a dragon you axe-head, and you're the one that stinks."

Syndar crept close, studying the creature as it stirred at the noise. One reptilian eye popped open, surveying the group. The beast opened its tooth-filled snout, a leathery tongue sliding out in a lazy yawn.

Nollo said, "See? No lizard has that many teeth. Them's dragon teeth. Stick your finger in and see for yourself. Just make sure you have enough fingers left to count your coins."

Kirsk smiled at Nollo's bluster, and looked to Syndar.

She shrugged, looked back to the cage, and said, "I've only read about them in my mother's book, I've never seen one. I expected it to be… to be…"

McDodd finished her thought. "Bigger, right? A dragon is as big as this barn, not smaller than my dog."

As if in answer, the creature let out a cry that sounded more like a squawk than a roar. Its tail flipped back and forth for a moment, rattling the cage, and it sent an expectant look Nollo's way. Disappearing behind another wagon, Nollo returned, struggling to carry a bucket stinking of day old fish. Grabbing one of the slimy offerings, he hoisted it toward the cage.

McDodd stole it from his hand. "Good thing this isn't really a dragon, you'd be too weak to even care for it."

As McDodd slid the fish through the bars of the cage, the creature grew more animated. Syndar and Kirsk looked at each other as a thin membrane momentarily unfolded from the side of the body before disappearing against the scales once more.

McDodd wasn't finished having his fun, and as the creature opened its mouth to take the fish, he snatched it back, laughing.

Nollo, furious, made a grab for the fish. "Don't tease it. Give it back!"

Kirsk started to complain, but McDodd drowned him out. "Ha! A dragon would'a ripped the fish right from my hands. They move so fast yer dead before you even see them. This is just a lazy, fat lizard."

McDodd held Nollo away with one hand, slowly swinging the fish in his other.

"McDodd, stop," Syndar said, but her warning fell on deaf ears.

"I'm helping it hunt, see?" the bully said. "It's moving its neck now."

McDodd swatted at the snout, landing a blow that caught the creature on the end of its nose. It croaked as it pulled back, a surprisingly dexterous claw pawing its face. It shuddered before sliding its neck back as McDodd leaned closer to the cage, laughing as the creature struggled to escape the smell. Kirsk had just decided it was time for that fight between him and McDodd, when the beast sneezed, sudden and violent.

A burst of flame shot from its mouth, promptly igniting McDodd's hair.

McDodd stood straight up, his hair smoking, then screamed as though he had seen the dead walk.

"Put it out! Put it out! Put it out!" he shouted as he ran in circles, swatting at his head.

Craster stood dumbfounded. Syndar burst into hysterical laughter, as Nollo ran to the cage to check on the wyrmling. Kirsk could only stare as his lips curled into a horrified smile.

"It's burning! It's burning! It's burning!" McDodd screamed. He continued his frantic running, still smacking the top of his head.

Kirsk overcame his amused shock, yelling at Craster to grab a bucket that sat on the floor of the barn beside a trough. The two boys scooped their buckets into the water as McDodd screamed that he'd kill them all, running toward Kirsk and Craster. In one fluid motion, he bent over at the waist to expose the top of his head, just as Kirsk threw the water where McDodd's head used to be. Craster stumbled into McDodd at the same moment, drenching the bully from the waist down. Kirsk's water splattered uselessly on the floor behind the bully.

McDodd shrieked, his head smoldering. The captive dragon grew excited at the boy's terror, struggling against the confines of the cage.

Syndar steadied herself as she caught her breath, then noted the ends of her hair standing straight out from her head. She reached a hand to them even as Nollo felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Kirsk and Craster were too busy swatting at McDodd to notice, and McDodd was too busy swatting back in pain and anger.

Nollo jumped back from the cage as the wyrmling's excitement turned to violent rebellion. It began ramming its head against the top if the cage as hard as it ever had.

A low hum sounded inside the barn, and Syndar tried to speak, her voice lost as the buzzing intensified. Her hair stood up even more, as did the boys', then the buzzing stopped.

Their world exploded in a shower of wood and debris.

The entire rear wall of the barn burst inward, the cries of the baby dragon lost as a massive shadow stepped into view. They all saw the horn-tipped snout at the end of a scaled neck that opened to reveal a row of horrifying fangs. The bellow started low and guttural, rising to a roar of unbridled fury. Blue scales glistened in the fragments of light from the moon that shone through the missing wall and roof.

McDodd sat up, many feet from where he had been standing, unaware that the blast of wind had finally extinguished his head. His favorite weapon, a quick tongue and blustering threats, were useless to him.

For a moment there was silence, then the rending sound of metal signaled the wyrmling had burst free from its cage.

That sound was followed by another roar from the blue dragon, causing them all to clutch their ears. One heavy claw from the blue ripped open the wagon, revealing a ruined cage and an unconscious Nollo lying amidst the debris. The blue had no appetite for the human boy, and snapped its head at the sound of clawed feet that scurried across the floor.

McDodd sobbed uncontrollably, his arms covering his head as Syndar rose to her knees, unsteady and bleeding from a gash to her scalp. Kirsk staggered to his feet. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the blue cross the barn, Syndar right in its path.

Without knowing how close to death he was, Kirsk summoned unknown strength and bolted across the path of the blue. Tackling Syndar, they tumbled to a stop as the dragon thudded past them on heavy, clawed feet. It walked right over McDodd, the heavy tail nearly sweeping him away.

Syndar shook uncontrollably, and Kirsk fought to keep his legs from giving out. The horses in the barn made a sound Kirsk never wanted to hear again, driving themselves through the wooden doors of their stalls in their fear.

As the mounts bolted for the double doors leading outside, everyone felt their breath stolen from their chests. The air started to hum again, and Kirsk couldn't hear his own breathing. The air itself seemed drawn toward the blue, then snapped back hard in angry rage. A blazing white light exploded into the double doors, burning a hole and carrying on into the night. It caught one of the horses in its wake, and the animal shrieked horribly, spasming as it smoked and burned in the throes of death.

The noise around Kirsk sounded distant as he held his head. A brown, leathery shape slid across the floor under the wagon nearest to the jagged hole in the barn. The wyrmling looked at Kirsk and Syndar and squawked.

Kirsk found his voice, even as the blue whipped its tail, obliterating the wooden stalls. "Syndar, you have to run, we have to get it out of here!"

She sobbed, but moved when Kirsk moved. The boy grabbed at the wyrmling who croaked even louder. Its cry alerted the blue, which roared again, spinning back in their direction.

Kirsk yelled as loudly as he could, thrusting the struggling creature into Syndar's arms. "Whatever happens, don't let go! Run for the mill! Run as hard as you can!"

Syndar shrieked as Kirsk pushed her through the ruined wall, crying out as the wyrmling dug its' talons into her skin. Kirsk closed his eyes and prayed. With speed generated by fear, he ran out the opening in plain view of the blue. The nightmarish beast was as long as a wagon train, and far faster. Bellowing in protest, it followed Kirsk outside.

"Run!" Kirsk shouted to Syndar. "Run hard! Don't look back!"

Syndar's light feet carried her quickly, but the wyrmling was heavy, her arms already bleeding from the sharp talons.

"Kirsk!" she wailed. "Kirsk! It hurts!"

But she ran on, the wood mill looming through the trees ahead. Branches and brambles tore at her dress, and tears stung her eyes, making it difficult to see.

Kirsk ran into the thickest of the trees outside the barn, weaving left then right, desperately seeking protection. His breath left him, the air starting to crackle and hum. In a last desperate gamble, Kirsk dived forward. The entire forest in front of him was illuminated by a brilliant white light, then there was a roar and a snapping sound, and he was in darkness.

Syndar struggled with the squawking wyrmling as as she made her way to the heavy door of the mill. Slamming her slender body into the door, she forced it open. Leaning with their combined weight, she managed to close it again.

Her hair stood up on end. With a cry she dropped to her knees as a bolt of lightning burned through the door, passing within feet of her. Slamming into a large steel saw, it splintered into a cascade of arcing lights. As the momentary brilliance of light vanished, Syndar raced for the stairs to the catwalks above. A roar from outside nearly deafened her, and she gritted her teeth, forcing her legs to move.

She ran across wooden walkways straddling piles of fresh cut trees. The smell of wood and sap mingled with burnt hair and blood. The building shook as a terrible blow shattered the door. A second lash of the blue's tail forced a larger opening. The gnarled horn of the blue's snout slipped inside the mill, slowly panning its head side to side.

The wyrmling squawked again, causing the blue to snap its scaled head in their direction. Tears stained her cheeks as Syndar ran, hoping to find another set of stairs down out of the mill. Winding her way through coarse bags of wood chips, a dark form appeared in an opening and she shrieked as Kirsk caught her in his arms.

"Syndar! It's me! It's me." Pulling himself the rest of the way inside the opening using chains that hung down to the ground below, Kirsk swatted away the thrashing tail of the wyrmling. "We can scare it off, but you have to listen. You have to stand exactly where I say, and not run no matter what. I promise you won't be hurt."

Syndar shook her head, then opened her eyes when she realized the wyrmling wasn't struggling. It looked at her with obvious intelligence.

Kirsk was covered in mud, leaves, and smelled of burnt skin, but she met his deep blue gaze with her own green eyes, looking for strength.

Her quiet reply was determined. "I trust you, Kirsk."

Creeping back along the catwalks, Syndar moved opposite where the blue stood thrashing its tail, unable to fly over the tall stacks of logs.

Lowering himself quietly to a table laden with saws and axes, Kirsk grabbed an axe. He crept away as the blue left long claw marks in the logs, attempting to climb them.

Syndar breathed deeply, standing very still as the wyrmling perched on her shoulders, its long tail wrapped around her waist. Her lips moved in silent repetition, reciting an incantation practiced over and over. Her voice rose as she did, and the blue snuffed loudly, turning on all fours at the familiar sound of spellcasting.

The dragon took several steps forward, seeking to blast the half-elf right off the catwalk, when multi-colored globes of light started dancing harmlessly in front of the blue's eyes. Snapping its head back in expectation of a biting spell, the blue roared in defiance as the futile dancing lights winked in the air.

It was then that Kirsk stood where he needed to be, lifting the heavy axe and bringing it down on the tail of the blue with all his strength. The handle snapped in two as the blade cracked a scale, biting into the tough flesh underneath.

Howling in unexpected pain, the blue looked back to find Kirsk kneeling over the broken axe. Its thick tail cut the air as it swung down hard. Dirt shot upward from the blow as a bludgeoned Kirsk flew across the mill, as did the wooden pylon behind him that held the log pile secure. There was a sudden shift in the weight of the logs, and the momentum began, like the torrent of a waterfall, impossible to stop.

The blue roared again, its tail pinned by the first falling log, as the massive pile avalanched out of control. In reaction to its tail being caught, the blue turned, its strength ripping the tail free, along with dozens of scales, only to bring its horned snout into line with the next bouncing log. It took the heavy tree right in the face, knocking it backward.

Struggling to avoid the next missile, it unfurled its wings in a natural escape pattern. Touching the floor as they swept out, they were promptly trampled by the rolling, spinning logs. Clawed feet sought purchase on the churning debris and were swept under, sending the blue crashing to the floor.

Losing all sense of direction, the dragon fought to stand upright on the shifting mass of spinning wood. With a defiant roar it freed its massive wings and thrust upward with all its remaining strength, heaving itself through the roof of the mill. As shingles and support beams rained down, a solitary shriek signaled its flight into the night sky.

Syndar rushed down to Kirsk's prone body. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, and she was almost afraid to touch him. Moonlight revealed the blood trickling from his mouth, his lips twitching, struggling to draw air. Gathering Kirsk against her she listened for his next breath. More tears ran down her cheeks when she was rewarded with a rattling exhale.

But her joy was short-lived. A shadow obscured the moon- light, and she heard the sound of heavy wings returning. Eyes widening in horror, she looked up to see the roof buckle as a massive dragon settled onto the ruined structure, the remaining beams supporting the roof snapping and cracking in protest.

The monster shifted, allowing moonlight to creep back into the barn, as a scaled neck slithered into view, dropping down into the jagged opening. The dragon's head slid back into a massive hardened plate. Through her terror Syndar noted scales glinting in soft brassy tones, not blue. The wyrmling squawked loudly, scurrying toward the brass dragon.

Spying the wyrmling, the brass roared in what could only have been relief. When the dragon reached down with a huge talon, the excited baby crawled up the scaled limb.

Syndar clutched Kirsk tightly, waiting to die. The dragon's snout lowered farther into the opening, studying the youth amidst the ruins of the mill. Syndar felt her matted and tangled blond hair waft with each smoky breath from the brass, and she dared to look death in the face.

The dragon watched her for a long moment before withdrawing its head. Reaching with a clawed talon, it tore loose a gleaming scale from its underside that tumbled down, slicing into the hardened earth as it landed upright. A storm of dust swirled as the dragon launched itself into the air upon mighty wings. Threatening to collapse once more, the roof held, just.

Shaking, unable to cry, Syndar stroked Kirsk's brow. She stared at the dragon scale as the dust settled. In the stark calmness of that moment she noted its shape was deformed somehow, two leathery straps clinging to the inside of the scale. A scale that looked less and less the skin of an animal, and more and more like a magnificent shield.

Beccard Rellock ran toward the barn, ignoring the shouts and cries as most of the men in the lumber camp sprinted toward the wood mill. Followed by his wagon team, they each ran in a different direction after the horses that survived the vicious attack of the blue dragon. Beccard ran through the trees, praying aloud that he would not find what he most feared. He stopped short as a pair of gloved hands grabbed him in mid-stride, spinning him around to face two shadows emerging from the trees. One was a bearded human in dull chain mail with a pair of swords on his belt and an axe strapped to his back. The other was a slender but no less dangerous looking elf. Supple leather adorned his lithe form, and a longbow, arrow notched but not drawn, was ready in his hands.

Beccard's fear intensified, and he took a step backward, even as he realized he couldn't outrun the two strangers, for they were not part of the lumber camp.

The human ranger spoke first. "You made a mistake Rellock, a big mistake."

The elf spoke in a quiet voice, and even through the elegant words of the Elvish language, Beccard could sense the anger directed at him.

The bearded human nodded, never taking his eyes off Beccard, and said, "You know who we are Rellock, and you know what we do."

Beccard nodded, swallowing, realizing he might not actually die, but that his danger was still very real.

"Please, my son might be in there… I have to find him," Beccard pleaded as he pointed to the ruined barn.

The elf spoke again, and the ranger translated: "That wasn't a two-headed cat you bought, it was a life. A life just like yours, just like mine. You couldn't possibly believe you'd haul it all the way to Suzail or Waterdeep like some cheap animal that does tricks for food."

Beccard shook his head, frantically glancing in the direction of the barn, looking for any sign of movement. It was the lack of it that terrified him.

He turned back to the pair before him and said, "I know. That's why I came here. It's quiet, remote. I didn't think anyone would find me here. I needed time to decide where to go. I had seen-" he gestured to the elf-"his kind following, but once we reached the camp here, they disappeared. I didn't know who else to tell."

The elf made one final comment, looking to the sky then back to Beccard.

The bearded ranger said, "Someone did find you. Someone big, blue, and angry. Brass is the natural enemy of the blue. You're fortunate the mother came along when she did. Scared the blue off before he tore this encampment to pieces. If there are any dead here tonight, Rellock, their blood is on your hands."

Beccard nodded once more, his intent to run to the barn obvious. The ranger grabbed him once more.

"If you ever want to earn one of these the right way, you stop making selfish decisions, and start making selfless ones."

The ranger unfolded his tunic collar underneath his chain mail. For a moment he flashed a pin carved in the likeness of a crescent moon and a harp, each inlaid with a sparkling dust.

The pin was gone as quickly as it appeared, and the two Harpers did likewise. Beccard barely saw them disappear into the darkness before he scrambled back toward the barn.

Beccard lifted away splintered boards to find the body of his son. Scooping the young boy into his arms, he gasped when Nollo squinted one eye at him.

"By the gods, Nollo!"

Nollo murmured in reply, then stiffened.

Beccard whispered, "It's safe son. The big one flew away. It flew away."

Beccard was surprised when Nollo jumped to his feet, disregarding his cuts and bruises, looking around the barn. "Pap, the baby…"

Beccard hugged his son close, realizing what the entire journey had almost cost him.

"Gone, boy. It took it and flew away."

Hugging his father at first, Nollo pushed away suddenly and said, "Don't be mad, Pappy. I remembered!"

The young boy limped over to McDodd who was being helped to his feet by other men. Nimbly snatching the bully's purse, Nollo returned. Upending the purse he counted three copper coins.

"One for him," Nollo said as he pointed to Craster lying in a wagon, "and two for him!" He pointed to McDodd.

Beccard was too disoriented to ask questions, but Nollo smiled as he explained, "One each for a look, and one extra for him."

Nollo pointed back to McDodd.

Beccard asked the obvious: "Why one extra, Nollo?"

"Because, Pap! He's wyrm-touched!"

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