D& D - Mystara 02 Dragonking of Mystara

by Thorarinn Gunnarsson

  "Oh no. On the contrary, I don't see how we can lose," he said, turning to wave his arm from west to east across the field. "I could draw my sword and rain so much destruction down upon them that a third of them would die before they could scatter, and they know it. They aren't here to fight. Look at them. They're just waiting, as if they've been brought here to witness something. What does Marthaen plan to do that has them so satisfied?"

  The First Speaker of the Dragons was approaching at last, gliding slowly toward Braejr. He circled low over the city once in a bold display, knowing he was within range of the catapults. Then he turned, landed lightly with powerful sweeps of his wings, and stepped up to the gate.

  "Dragonlord, are you prepared to surrender your armor?" he asked as he settled back on his haunches and

  lifted his head level with the parapet.

  "I am not," Thelvyn answered. "My duty forbids it. Have you considered my offer to come and stay among the dragons?"

  "There is nothing to consider," the dragon replied. "Whether you come or go is no longer relevant after this day. I cannot fight you, and I cannot take the armor from you by stealth or by force. But what I can do is defeat you with words. I know something about you that you do not even know yourself, a truth so terrible that the knowledge of it will destroy all the trust you have earned. It is the only weapon that I have against you, and now I must use it."

  Thelvyn braced himself, understanding too late. He saw both Sir George and Sellianda look away, unable to face the dragon, and he realized that they had always known but were unable to tell him. Korinn looked skeptical, certain in his belief that nothing could turn him against his friend. Hundreds of defenders along the wall had fallen deathly silent, waiting for the dragon to speak even if they were not prepared to believe his words.

  "All these grand gestures have been but the stage that I have set," Marthaen continued. "I have been in absolute command of this situation since before the dragons entered this land, and all of these ploys have only served to prepare for this moment. But I confess that the only joy I take in this is in the knowledge that no one will be made to suffer or die for our victory. I regret that the price will be paid in your own pain and in that of your companions, who have been devoted to you. Even the pain of my own sister Kharendaen, who has loved you for years."

  He glanced briefly over his shoulder to the north, to where the dragons waited in silence. At last he sighed, laying back his ears, and turned back to the Dragonlord.

  "Several years ago, a time of great trouble and uncertainty came upon the dragons," he began. "Part of this you know already. The Great One had left us. For the first time in centuries, the dragons were without guidance. We had not been required to make decisions for ourselves in a long time and thus we were not especially good at it. No one knew whether the Great One had left us by his own choice or if the other Immortals had taken him from us. No one knew when he would return, and many feared that he was gone forever."

  Thelvyn nodded. "I know of this."

  "That was only the beginning," Marthaen said. "Into this conflict came the prophecy of the Dragonlord, a prophecy that told us that the Dragonlord would return, and that he would become the ruler of all dragons, and that he would set into motion events that would shape the destiny of the dragons forever. Perhaps it was foolish of the dragons to see the prophecy only as a portent of doom. I am inclined to believe that if you change our destiny, it will likely be for the better. But the name of the Dragonlord was a part of that prophecy, and that has always been a name that held nothing but terror for us.

  "The Nation of Dragons was in a state of chaos, and a faction of rogue dragons panicked. They did something terrible, turning not upon their own kind but upon our clerics. They learned that the Dragonlord was to be born of one of the clerics, and they felt betrayed by not only the clerics but by the Great One himself."

  "My mother was a cleric of the Great One?" Thelvyn asked in amazement.

  "As are you, I believe," Marthaen agreed. "Your mother was Arbendael, a senior cleric of the Great One and a gold dragon. I cannot tell you who your father was, whether he was also a dragon or of some other race. Your mother was enchanted into human form so that you would be born the person you needed to be to become the Dragonlord, not hatched as a dragon from an egg."

  "Then what you are saying is that I am a dragon?" Thelvyn asked. Of all possibilities, this was the one thing that he hadn't expected. He had always understood that dragons could only give birth to their young while both mother and child were in their true form, and so he had never dreamed that he was, by some unknown means, an exception to that rule.

  "Strictly speaking, you are not a dragon and never have been," Marthaen told him. "The form you wear is that of the Eldar, the ancient ancestors of the elves, after the dragons themselves the strongest, heartiest, most powerful race of sorcerers and clerics this world has ever known. But you possess the heritage of a gold dragon from your mother, and I suspect you command the power to break the enchantment and assume your true form."

  Thelvyn shook his head slowly, looking up at the dragon. "But—but—"

  "Of your history, I am sure that you can surmise the rest," Marthaen went on. "The rogue dragons came to destroy your mother in the most sacred of sanctuaries of the Great One in the mountain forests of Wendar. But she had already taken the only form you knew her by, and she had fled into the mountains. They hunted her ruthlessly. They even fought her in a desperate battle of flames and magic in which five red dragons died and your mother suffered her fatal injury. Perhaps it was chance, or perhaps it was the intervention of the Great One himself, that Sir George was there to care for you. He has served you better than you may know, and you must not begrudge him for keeping your secret from you."

  "I speak the language of the dragons, lad," Sir George explained. "I understood everything your mother told me, even your name—your real name, that is."

  "My real name?" Thelvyn asked, his mind reeling.

  "Your true name is Thelvaenir of the gold dragons," Marthaen told him. "Consider all that you know about yourself, and you will see the truth. Have you never realized that you have the same black on blue eyes as the gold dragons? Do you not know that you have the same farsee-ing vision as a dragon, sharp enough to spy an elk in the woods from five miles away, able to pierce the darkest night? Are you not both a wizard and a cleric, a remarkable situation known to exist only among dragons? Does not the close approach of a dragon cause you to instinctively draw back in alarm, as it would any dragon?"

  Thelvyn shook his head slowly. "No . . . you misunderstand. I don't doubt anything you've told me. Now that the truth is out, it's as if I've always known. I don't deny anything; I just want to know more."

  "Perhaps, but this is not the time," Marthaen replied.

  "Kharendaen will return to you soon, and she will tell you what you must do next. All I know is that circumstances have changed radically. You must not come among the dragons unless you are prepared to do so as a dragon."

  "Then I will seek KhaTendaen," Thelvyn said meekly.

  "My part is now finished. Perhaps I have done it entirely too well," the leader of the dragons continued. "We were afraid that you would become a king and a conqueror, and we feared that the distrust all other races have of dragons would gain you their support and following. Since then I have learned that you never wished to be king, but the damage is done. Now the Dragonlord will have no place in the world except among dragons. According to prophecy, that is where you belong."

  Thelvyn looked up at him. "I don't understand. . . ."

  "That is why I have betrayed you publicly. You may have lost the trust of all the rest of the world, but you have taken the first step in earning the trust of the dragons. We no longer fear you. You know that you are one of us, and the dragons know that you will not harm us. Whether you come to us remains to be seen. You must now have some time to consider all that you have learned, to see what your place will be in the world after this
day, and perhaps even to realize that being a dragon is not such a bad thing after all. Unfortunately, at this moment you must feel that you have become your own worst enemy."

  "No, that's not it," Thelvyn said. "I think perhaps there are a few things even you do not understand. Just because I am the Dragonlord has never meant that I hate or fear dragons. You associate me with your legends, comparing me to someone I've never known. I have never considered myself the enemy of the dragons. I have always understood that I was given the powers of the Dragonlord to prevent the dragons from doing harm to others and bringing harm upon themselves. The first Dragonlord was a warrior. I am a cleric."

  "That is something the dragons could never believe until it was proven," Marthaen said.

  "Then they should also understand that the Great One never betrayed them," Thelvyn continued. "As you said, a time of chaos had come upon the dragons. The Great One saw that the dragons should not, in their fury and fear, put themselves at odds with the world. Only the Dragonlord could prevent the dragons from going to war, and who better to perform that task than a dragon?"

  Marthaen remained silent.

  "There is one other thing you should understand," Thelvyn went on. "I am still the Dragonlord, and I still have my duty. Learning my secrets does not change that."

  "No, I don't suppose it would," the dragon said. "But now I must go."

  Marthaen turned and, in three powerful leaps, thrust himself into the morning sky and rose steadily as he flew to the north, withdrawing to the wooded hills many miles beyond the city. Rank after rank, the dragons all spread their wings and ascended to follow him, passing in waves over the city before they banked sharply to pass in a seemingly endless line to the north. In a matter of minutes, the last of the dragons had withdrawn to the forests and hills beyond the fields, where they settled in once again to wait.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  By that evening, the balance of power was already beginning to change drastically. Seeking forage for their horses, the Ethengar had moved out into the open fields north of the city between the two rivers, where the dragons had gathered that very morning. The army from Darokin arrived at sundown and made camp on the south side of the Areste River, where it seemed perfectly content to remain. The dragons themselves were now camped well to the north, beyond the camps of the Ethengar. Dragons continued to scout the region, but less frequently and in fewer numbers, and they were flying higher to appear less threatening.

  At first Thelvyn thought they would depart for their own lands now that their task was complete, but on further consideration, he knew what they were waiting for. Marthaen had planted the seed of dissension; the news that the Dragonlord was himself a dragon in enchanted form had been calculated to destroy the trust of his allies. Marthaen was waiting for a sign of confirmation that his plan had

  worked, and the ultimate sign was the departure of the allied armies. The quickest way for him to be rid of the dragons, Thelvyn realized to his wry amusement, was through the collapse of his own fortunes.

  Ironically, none of this had really been necessary. If he had only been in communication with Marthaen, the gold dragon wouldn't have found it necessary to discredit the Dragonlord in the eyes of all the world. He couldn't blame Marthaen, since he understood how easy it would have been for the dragon to assume that his becoming the King of the Highlands had been the actions of a person hungry for power. His only consolation was that perhaps things had turned out for the best. The dragons would not be going to war, and he was free of all past ties and could confront his true duty.

  The dragons had correctly anticipated a loss of faith in the Dragonlord, but it did not come all at once. The trust of most people in the Dragonlord to protect them had been so great they resisted the news that he was a dragon at first. Relatively few of the defenders along the wall had been close enough to actually hear the words of the gold dragon, so that most learned the news only by way of a rather astonishing rumor that swept through the city that afternoon. For the time being, at least, nearly everyone was so boundlessly pleased that there would not be a battle that they hardly cared whether their king was a dragon, an elf, or a pig-faced ore.

  Even so, Thelvyn had a lifetime of experience with the Flaemish distrust of foreigners, and he knew that they would turn against him sooner or later. The only immediate result was that the army of marauders from the Broken Lands gave up and returned home in disgust.

  Thelvyn disassociated himself from taking an active part in the leadership of the Highlands, leaving the planning for bringing Braejr down from a state of siege to Captain Gairstaan and Solveig. The tall barbarian woman had earned a certain fondness with the Flaem from her part in the attack the night of the reception for the ambassador from Darokin; the popular story held that she had received her wounds in a noble sacrifice to save the life of the Dragonlord. She was already well known in that part of the world as one of the companions of the Dragonlord, and her reputation did not suffer because of his disgrace.

  Curiously, Sir George didn't take advantage of his own reputation to assume a role of leadership. When Thelvyn considered this fact, he realized what the old knight had already figured out. Thelvyn would likely be leaving the Highlands soon to begin a long journey that would eventually take him to the dragons. And Sir George meant to go along.

  "Are you upset, lad?" Sir George asked that night as he and Sellianda sat with Thelvyn in the king's private chamber.

  "Upset?" Thelvyn asked, leaving his quiet thoughts to look up. "Should I be upset?"

  "Well, you've had a bit of a shock," the old knight said. "Dragons killed your mother, and they've tried to kill you even since they discovered that you were still alive. Being told that you're secretly a dragon must be quite a surprise under any circumstances."

  "No ... I can't really say that I'm upset," Thelvyn answered thoughtfully. "I suppose that it isn't any great surprise to be told something you've always known in your heart. I don't hate dragons, so that doesn't distress me. I admit that I'm feeling a bit sad, though."

  "How is that?"

  Thelvyn shrugged helplessly. "You know all of the stories I invented to tell myself who I was, mostly that I was descended from the race of ancient Blackmoor. Of course, you knew the truth all along."

  "There was no special race of ancient Blackmoor," Sir George explained. "They were perfectly ordinary people, common mortals very much like those who live in this part of the world today. The only difference was that they knew a great deal about magic and science, and they were able to put the two together."

  "Which is why you always knew that I wasn't one of the legendary half-elves," Thelvyn said to Sellianda. "You always did know who I was, didn't you?"

  She nodded. "I knew from the first, which is why the question of who you really were has never made any difference to me."

  "Solveig could hardly care less," Thelvyn said. "Although I'm sure this is going to create a political mess for Korinn. Or did they know as well?"

  "No, I never told anyone," Sir George insisted. "You might recall my telling you that a dragon or dragonkin will almost always recognize another on sight, no matter what form the dragon might take. That's how the dragons knew who you were from the first time they saw you at Torkyn Fall. And that was why I recognized your mother for who she was the moment I saw her. Of course, she knew who I was at once as well, which was why she trusted me with the truth. I swore a promise of duty very much the same as that of a cleric that night, a promise that I later found increasingly hard to keep. I knew how much you wanted to go home, but I was always afraid that you wouldn't like the truth."

  "I always imagined my people lived in some faraway land so remote and forgotten that no one had ever heard of them," Thelvyn continued sadly. "For years I've lived with a fond dream of a grand homecoming. I remember the first time I met my mother's spirit, the day we ascended World Mountain. I assumed the spirit of the gold dragon chased her away before she could reveal any important secrets, but now I know that the go
ld dragon was her in her true form."

  "World Mountain is the gateway to the spirit world," Sellianda explained. "She would have found it easier to manifest herself there, although she obviously didn't find it so easy to maintain the illusion of her enchanted form."

  Thelvyn looked at Sir George. "Now I'm more curious than ever why you didn't betray me at once to the rogue dragons. You knew they were in the mountains that night looking for me. I daresay they would have given you a great reward for your assistance."

  "I had promised your mother not to betray you," the old knight said, looking a bit embarrassed. "From the moment she first looked at me, I could never say no to her. Besides,

  the Great One had told her you were very important to the future of the dragons, which she repeated to me. I wasn't about to cross the will of the Great One."

  Hiding a smile, Thelvyn said no more about the matter. He knew Sir George well enough by that time to be aware of his secret admiration and respect for dragons. The wishes of the Great One were law to him, a loyal drake. He had been honored and enormously pleased to serve.

  "What will you do now?" Thelvyn asked Sellianda. "Your duty here must be nearing an end."

  "It is also my duty to remain with you until Kharendaen returns," she said. "And she cannot come to you while you remain here in Braejr."

  *****

  Things were beginning to change even by the next morning, and very much along anticipated lines. A rumor was already going through Braejr that the recent troubles with the dragons had been entirely a struggle between the dragons and the Dragonlord for control of the Highlands, and that the Flaem wouldn't have been involved at all but for them. It was likely that very few people actually believed that rumor. They remembered only too well how determined King Jherridan had been to go to war with the dragons and that Thelvyn had actually opposed such drastic actions. And no one had forgotten the treachery of the wizards.

  Still, there was a growing suspicion that Thelvyn was in some way responsible for recent events, at least by implication. The general opinion was that the Dragonlord was dangerous to have about, no matter how benevolent his intentions. Unfortunately, there was some truth in that. The only thing Thelvyn could do at that time to avoid a crisis of confidence was to let it be known, by formal decree, that he would be relinquishing the throne as soon as a capable replacement could be found, and that he was calling together a council of special advisors to select the next king. Under the circumstances, he would not be naming his own successor.