Vegenrage: The Magic User

by Robert Spina

  The staff continues to transform as a spine grows down the golden swirl of the staff, broken by the black coral, which beautifully combines with the gold, giving the dragon the illusion of sharp spines. The spine grows down the staff and becomes a tail wrapping to the bottom of the staff, giving it a sharp spear-like point on the bottom of the staff. Wings grow from the back around the staff, as does a stomach and arms and legs appear around the staff. When completed, it is still a staff about three and a half feet long, but the illusion makes it look like a beautiful gold-and-black dragon.

  Magnificent Vegenrage thinks to himself as he looks at this beautiful creation of ancient magic. The staff is now solid gold in color with the exception of the black coral along the spine and the green eyes of the dragon head, which is the only part of the staff that is actually the shape of the image seen. The rest of the staff is circular and round, like a dowel rod, but by looking at it, you would really think it is a dragon. The bottom is of course a pointed tail of the dragon, which could be used as a spear. The eyes of the dragon are emerald, a beautiful green with a black coral dot in the center, widening like the pupils of a large cat.

  Vegenrage looks in awe, loving the treasure he has acquired. He rips a piece of meat from his roasting dinner and eats, just looking at his new treasure as he turns it, amazed at how it looks like a real dragon but is truly the shape of a staff, the Staff of Barrier Breath. Vegenrage eats until he is full and feels the need to rest, not even knowing how long he has been awake now. His eyes fall, and he remembers what Logantrance had said to him about his presence being known and snaps awake. He looks around, ready for sleep, but is wary to unkind visitors during his sleep. He waves his hand in front of the fire, and it goes out smokeless. He rips another chunk of meat and consumes it. Using his magic, he burrows a human-size divot in the earth, fills it with soft down, and covers it with a soft blanket. He casts unusual magic that creates a small invisible dome around his bed, which will surely prevent entry at least long enough to wake him should danger approach. This dome makes his bed appear like the natural earth and conceals Vegenrage and his magical presence as he lies down quickly to sleep even though it is only early evening at best.

  He falls fast asleep and sleeps well, waking in the nighttime. He has no idea what time it is, but that is not a concern of his. He is excited and stretches his legs and arms and back, all happy because he is about to challenge wits with a real dragon. The moon is hidden behind a thick cloud cover, and the air is very dark and breezy, just the way he likes it. He drops his magical dome that has protected him through his sleep and brings thick vines and leaves from the forest with his telekinesis ability. He uses his magic to create a magical belt of brown and green color, which has two scabbards, one hanging from the left hip and one from the right. His Barrier Breath Staff fits perfectly into the scabbard on the left side of him, and he pulls out his Staff of Power and it fits perfectly into the scabbard on the right of him. The scabbards hold firm and free of swaying, allowing him to move freely without the staffs bouncing around and getting in his way.

  Vegenrage throws flames from his hands, heating what is left of his dinner, and eats some meat, walking around, anxious to get on with his quest but yet a little cautious. This is Blethstole, and he will not take kindly to intruders into his lair. In fact, it is well-known that dragons kill all that enter their domain, even their own kind. Vegenrage thinks about what he will say if language comes into play. He thinks about the types of magic he may have to use in a flash, but all in all, he has to go see what will happen, and yet he still hesitates, using the yummy deer meat he is eating as an excuse to linger where he is.

  Two hours pass and Vegenrage has eaten all he is going to and, after a short rest, takes to flight, heading toward the Mirrimya Mountain. It is very dark on this night, and he can only make out shadows but flies high and can manage. He flies up the mountain, looking for entrances that are large enough for dragons to enter and exit. Surprisingly, small holes can be used by these very large beasts, but when one appears, he should be able to spot it. He remembers his study of dragons; he has many books at his home on them. Dragons are a very complex species, coming in all the colors with different magical breath depending on the color of the dragon, and they are all magical beings able to speak many languages and cast an array of different magic. Dragons are very proud and sometimes give way to those that flatter them using the correct wording, because they love to hear about their magnificence. They love to be bathed in grandeur by terrified beings begging for their life, and sometimes the dragons allow those they deem submissive enough to go free. Really, dragons do not want to spare the life of any, but the thought that someone will return to others speaking of the terror and the incredible strength and unimaginable power of the dragon is very gratifying for them, and this is their real motivation for letting free someone that has spoken with them.

  Vegenrage is very high up the mountain now, and the moon is still not visible, but the silvery blue glow from the clouds is creating some more light than lower to the ground. The mountain is beautiful, and he loves the night. It’s comfortably cool, dark, with a hint of eerie creepiness, which he loves. The mountain rises slowly with large plateaus full of plant life, large rocks, and even trees here and there. The mountain is starting to grow steeper with high cliffs now as he climbs higher through the air and up farther toward the top of the mountain, which almost reaches the clouds, or so it would seem. He gets to the top of the cliff face. He is rising above, and at the top of this steep cliff is another large plateau. And there it is, the entrance he was looking for. He flies down and lands for the first time on Mirrimya Mountain. The air is noticeably colder here and just a little above the comfort zone for him, but he will make do. He knows Blethstole is in his mountain lair because he can amplify his hearing with magic, and he can hear the deep rumble of Blethstole as he breathes. He also knows from his studies that dragons do not have intricate lairs. They generally have one, two, or three entrances and exits, which lead to a large room where they sleep on the stolen treasure they have accumulated. This is mostly true of all dragons, with rare exceptions.

  He draws his Staff of Barrier Breath and enters the surprisingly large entrance, which is wide-open, with no effort to conceal its location. Blethstole is obviously worried of no threat. He heads in and turns invisible as he enters the dragon’s home. The entrance is a large, whale-size blue hole leading into the mountain, and he walks cautiously. The entrance starts to slant downward until he has to take to the air to avoid dirt and stones from rolling into the pit as the entrance slopes down to a vertical drop. He slowly floats down the hole, surprised at the depth. The air is warming, and the light has vanished to solid blackness. He transforms his eyes to that of a nocturnal animal so that he can see in the dark. He floats down into the lair of Blethstole and can see fine with his eyes that are now three times larger than normal, and what he sees is breathtaking.

  Blethstole is lying on a bed of gold, jewels, artifacts, paintings, magical items, trinkets, and the remains of some of his prey. This treasure bed is some forty feet high and about fifteen yards wide. Blethstole is curled up with his fantastic head resting on his tail, which wraps around his stomach and head and continues around his back to his hips, where the spear end of his tail ends. His tail is lying on his front paws with talons for nails. His hind legs are under his body, and his left wing is acting like a blanket covering most of his body, from his neck to his hips. Blethstole’s wings are not connected to his forearms, as is the case with a lot of dragons. His wings sprout from the center of his back and look like thick black rubber.

  The part of his body that Vegenrage can see from the bottom of his hips down his tail is a shiny black scale, like that of a snake, very clean and nearly invulnerable. His head is pure fantasy. He has four horns that grow from the back of his head, two above and behind his ears, which are unusually large and well defined for exceptional hearing. The two horns grow from the back of his head toward his
tail for about three feet, and then a sharp U-turn in the horns brings them up over his head, and then they slope down away from his head and then veer straight ahead, forming fantastic tusks about four feet above his head, ending in sharp points about two feet in front of his snout. There are two more horns that grow from below his ears, straight away from his head about three feet, and then they turn toward the front of his head and grow forward, ending at the same point as the two top horns do. He has an awesome-looking head—formidable and intimidating—and the teeth have not been seen yet, and all these weapons are nothing compared to his Breath of Decadence.

  He has strong, well-pronounced ridges above his eyes, and his face extends out some three and a half feet, narrowing to the tip of his nose, which is well-defined and an awesome sensory unit allowing Blethstole the amazing sense of stereoscopic smell. He has four very thick whiskers, two on either side and just below his nose. Vegenrage is not deceived by the peaceful sleep Blethstole is in. He knows that in an instant, Blethstole can unleash magnificent power, and most likely he has already smelled Vegenrage’s scent. He lowers himself to a natural outcrop in the cave and relaxes, unable to avoid the sense of awe at being one of very few who ever get the opportunity to watch a sleeping dragon in its own lair.

  Dragons are magical beings and have natural resistance to most all magic. That does not mean they are immune to magic, just that magic cast on them must be much more powerful to have any effect on them. Dragons, depending on their color, are immune to certain types of magic; and in the case of Blethstole being a black dragon and very old and wise, he is immune to all types of charm. He cannot be put to sleep; he cannot be made to panic or feel hysteria. His thoughts cannot be altered magically, making him a real challenge. Vegenrage thinks he can take advantage of the unique situation he is in by shooting lightning bolts, massive fireballs, at Blethstole or send an inferno at him, but it is not his nature to take advantage of situations. He is very honorable and likes the thrill of confrontation; it makes him better, stronger, more well adapted, and experienced. Besides, he does not want to damage or destroy the overwhelming treasure that he is dying to sift through and explore. With that thought in his mind, he knows Blethstole will not part with any of his treasure while he is alive.

  Blethstole takes in a deep breath through his nostrils and exhales. He raises his massive head, and his wing covering his body folds up and rests on his back. Blethstole opens his beautiful emerald eyes, which look like green oranges with orange pupils that extend in an oval shape from bottom to top. This color gives great contrast to the solid black color of the rest of Blethstole’s body, and he looks right at Vegenrage.

  Vegenrage can sense the charm Blethstole is casting upon him, which, thanks to the staff, has no effect since it makes him immune to dragon charm, but he knows this is a crafty, smart, dangerous creature he is about to duel wits with. Vegenrage appears on the ground to the left of Blethstole’s bed. Blethstole looks at him.

  “So you think you can steel my treasure?”

  “Why else would I be here? The riches and wealth here are worth any risk. I think I am going to steel that and that and—oh yeah, that looks very nice.” Vegenrage points out treasures he would like as he speaks.

  “Many have tried, and all have perished. I do like your courage. Most try to hide from me, but you openly face me.” Blethstole sends a fireball from his mouth, incinerating Vegenrage, and Vegenrage appears fifteen feet to the left of where he just was. “Oh, you are a crafty one. Already you have evaded my charm and dodged my fire. So how many of these clones must I kill before I get the real you, Vegenrage?”

  “Oh, a couple, Blethstole.”

  Blethstole rises to his feet, sending treasure tumbling down the hill of gold as he rises and turns to face the newly formed Vegenrage. Vegenrage is casting mirror images of himself minus the staffs. They are complete replicas of him, including the warmth of his body and his smell, keeping Blethstole honest in having to take each image as though it may be the real Vegenrage.

  “Ah, a game of cat and mouse. Of course, you are the mouse, and it is only a matter of time until I have eaten the mouse. A tasty treat you will be, Vegenrage.” Blethstole, with surprising speed, swoops on Vegenrage and grasps him with his right hand and devours Vegenrage with a few bites. Vegenrage appears fifteen feet to the left again. Blethstole laughs. “Oh, you are a confident one.” This time he slowly walks toward Vegenrage. “You are nifty, you are sly, you are a risk taker,” he says, slamming his right paw down on Vegenrage, crushing him to vapor.

  Vegenrage appears on Blethstole’s bed. This time Vegenrage throws a fireball of his own at Blethstole, which warms him but has no effect other than to startle Blethstole a little.

  “You mock me?” Blethstole says, walking up his bed. “You challenge me. You are daring.” Blethstole shoots six black darts from his mouth, striking Vegenrage, deflating his image, and decaying him to ash. An image of Vegenrage appears behind Blethstole and charges up the golden bed and grabs a scale on his leg and tries to pull it free. Blethstole uses his wing like a flyswatter and flattens Vegenrage’s image.

  The real Vegenrage sees his opportunity as Blethstole turns his back to him and stands high and tall on his bed. Vegenrage jumps from his perch and lands between Blethstole’s wings and grabs a scale at the bottom of his neck and pulls it free from Blethstole’s body. Blethstole bucks and flaps his wings down, exerting a great upward force, sending Vegenrage high into the air. Blethstole faces his head upward and exhales his deadly breath attack. Vegenrage is now hovering high up in the air but must concentrate on the breath attack Blethstole is unleashing. The breath comes out of his mouth, a massive thick black cloud, and Vegenrage holds out the Staff of Barrier Breath.

  This is a magical scene and incredible looking as Vegenrage speaks the words and the dragon head on the top of the staff opens its mouth. The breath attack from Blethstole, which is massive and unmistakably powerful in force and size, funnels its way to the dragon’s mouth and is consumed by the staff, bathing Blethstole’s lair in a golden light. The staff grows brighter as more and more of the breath is taken in. Blethstole stops his breath attack and looks at Vegenrage, surprised. “Vergraughtu.”

  Vegenrage does not linger and flies through the exit into the night air, with Vergraughtu in one hand and a scale from Blethstole in the other. The clouds have thinned, and the moon is now peeking through as Blethstole exits his lair. And what a magnificent view of Blethstole as he flaps his enormous wings, and his silhouette flies through the air of silver-blue moonlight, with long clouds looking like icicles in the sky. Blethstole pursues Vegenrage, raging. “You never wanted my gold at all. You wanted me, and you can’t have me or my gold. Oh, you are masterful, you are challenging, you are Vegenrage, the master magic user, and your head will be my most appreciated treasure.”

  Vegenrage is about to show that he is in fact a master magic user as he transforms in midair into Blethstole’s love, Gwithen, the white dragon mare. She extends her wings wide and swoops in a circle to face Blethstole in midair. The two dragons meet, flapping their wings to hover and gaze upon each other. Blethstole is taken by complete surprise and gazes upon his love. Gwithen is truly magnificent, solid white with shiny emerald eyes with golden pupils. Her wings sprout from her back, as do Blethstole’s. She has a more slender appearance, truly feminine and gorgeous. To male dragons, her scent is intoxicating with female hormones, and Blethstole is speechless in his admiration of her beauty.

  “Blethstole, I await your return to release me from my sleep, to plant the seed my eggs wait for.” Gwithen swings her massive tail, coming down on Blethstole’s left wing with a crushing blow, sending him falling, twirling to the ground as Vegenrage regains his form and makes a fast getaway.

  CHAPTER 8

  Cloakenstrike, Erkensharie, and the Treestriders

  Bastrenboar is standing in front of a table with three of his leading commanders on the opposite side. The table has a well drawn-out map of the k
ingdom of Ugoria on it.

  “Lushantor, take your army through the Mogle Lands and enter the Creshian Forest here. It’s going to be a long run through the forest, and then you and your men will be at the southern gate of Ugoria.” Bastrenboar points out the path for Lushantor and his army to take to Ugoria on the map. “Gripzon, take your men up the Gwipps River and exit the Ugoria highlands. Follow this path to the north rim of the Ugorian Kingdom and attack the north wall.” Bastrenboar points out the route on the map for Gripzon to see and also gives him a personal map to make sure he and his men follow this exact route to avoid detection of the elves. “Rowgen, you and your men have the most dangerous and difficult route to Ugoria. You will have to travel through the Ugorian Forest and assault the eastern tip of the Ugorian Kingdom. This forest is thick with Ugorian elves and defended fiercely. We all know this, and we will have special mechanisms in place to allow safe passage for you and your men, allowing you to pass undetected. Rowgen, you and your one hundred men are the most specialized fighters we have, and we cannot afford to lose any of you. Meet with your men and gather them three days from now to meet with myself and Cloakenstrike in the training area. We have special instructions for you. Men, we assault the Ugorian Kingdom one week from today. Cloakenstrike will return in a day or two, and we will devise the campaign that will finally fell the elven king who ordered our creation. The creation that will be his undoing. Lushantor, Gripzon, Rowgen, gather with your men and prepare. Our time to dominate and destroy the elves is close now. Prepare and wait for further instruction.”