by Vic Broquard
Brown Dragons were occasionally seen flying high in the skies around Fair Wyn. None had ever ventured close though. That did not mean that the inhabitants had no opinion of the dragons. Because the dragons often dined on the sand worms that made the underground burrows in which the sand sprites lived, the hundreds of Fair Wyn were rightly upset with them. Once Rhys had ventured to find and speak with the leader of the browns, Donatello. He had asked them to stop eating the sand worms and had explained what the worms were doing for the ecology of Anwyn. The browns didn’t stop and now often used some of these underground tunnels and chambers for their own lairs. Before this day, there was some long standing animosity towards the Brown Dragons. All that was about to change.
A dozen browns came swooping in low over Fair Wyn, just above the date and palm trees that lined the oasis. The dozen children stopped their game of tag and looked up at the approaching dragons, pointing excitedly to the huge flying beasts. Their wide-eyed enthusiasm was replaced by fear. The leading dragons let lose their breath electrical bolts directly upon the gazing children. Their small bodies jerked and smoldered from the massive currents flowing through their bodies, killing them nearly instantly. The children’s screams brought the many adults racing out of their adobe homes only to encounter the wrath of the dragons.
More electrical charges detonated, but many of the adults cast their defensive spells which in essence shorted the current into the ground beneath their feet. Seeing this, the browns landed and went into melee with the remaining adults. One reared up on his hind legs and batted the humans near him with his powerful front claws. Another tried to bite others with his huge, sharp teeth.
The adults countered with spells, from Magical Missiles of many variations and varieties to Lightning Bolts of their own. None dared use Balls of Fire because of the close proximity of everyone else. A few shot Disintegrate spells as well. Some spells were effective, others not.
When a human was struck by one of the swinging claws, his or her body went flying off as if it were a billiard ball. Broken ribs, arms, and legs were common results, along with great torn gashes in their torsos and/or appendages. Many who did not rise up again were later trampled to death by the dragons that continued unabated in their carnage of Fair Wyn.
“The children, Rhys!” Megan exclaimed wildly, dodging a giant claw aimed at her head. Ducking and rolling across the sands, she scrambled to her feet and continued making her way to the children. Rhys was delayed by a dragon and he wisely chose to back up and open a Mystical Door. He stepped into it, avoiding the dragon’s attack and stepped out beside the body of his oldest boy. Rhys knelt down and felt for a pulse, but didn’t expect to feel one from the charred body. Anger seethed and grew within him.
Megan raced to her eldest daughter but likewise found she too had been killed. Ten feet away, she spotted her other daughter and moved to her side. Cradling the wounded five year old in her arms, Megan watched the life force depart from the little body. Grief swelled in her bosom as she rocked back and forth, crying, “No! No! No!”
Rhys glance her way, saw that she held their daughter and frantically looked to find their young four year old son. “Oh no!” He spotted the small body, which had been squashed by some dragon as it had attacked and killed another child before moving to attack the adults. Rhys snapped. Anger filled his mind. Another dragon moved towards him now, intent upon killing him. Rhys cast his spell, Sand Spike. He became part of the sand beneath his body, which seemed to vanish utterly in the eyes of the approaching dragon. As the dragon neared the location where Rhys had been, suddenly an enormous spike of fused sand came thrusting upwards from the sand, as if the hand of some giant was thrusting up an enormous stalactite of granite or basalt, rock hard. This was Rhys in his sand body form spell. The spike thrust into the belly of the brown exiting through its back, severing its backbone in the process. One second after the attack of Rhys, the spike protruded ten feet above the back of the brown, who moaned a painful death howl. As suddenly as the spike had come, the sand comprising it returned to the sand that formed it and trickled to the ground like some enormous sand timer whose glass cylinder had just been shattered.
Megan, seeing the attack form used by Rhys, nodded and cast her Sand Spike spell. Her body too disappeared, blending into the sands beneath here she had knelt. A small wave moved across the sands to the nearest dragon that was attacking other adults. Megan moved beneath the dragon and executed her attack. Again, a giant stone spike flew up from the ground, puncturing the dragon’s hide, slicing through its belly, and thrusting up eight feet from the top of its back, killing it slowly and painfully. An instant later, sand grains fell back down to the ground and Megan’s wave moved onwards. A second wave, Rhys, was right beside hers.
Three other adults spotted the effectiveness of the Seren’s attack spells and followed suit. Before long, six more browns were skewered by Sand Spikes. The browns, never having seen such devastating attacks against themselves and expecting little to no resistance whatsoever, lifted off, fleeing for their lives, leaving eight of their original twelve browns dead there at Fair Wyn.
While Rhys and several others used their spells to move the eight dead dragons far out into the desert sands, others tended to the many wounded and lined up their dead. Half of the adults were wounded, some severely. Nearly all of the village’s children had perished, only two survived. When Rhys returned, joining Megan, he tried to comprehend the devastation but was numb.
At last, he took charge. “Okay, let’s get everyone to the safety of the Below.” One by one, he and Megan began teleporting the wounded far beneath the surface into their private chambers that the village often used, abandoned Sand Worm tunnels. Here they stored their precious food supplies, safe from the desert thieves, such as hyenas and scavenger birds. After the fifty wounded were safely brought Below and made comfortable in their quarters, the remaining fifteen adults returned for their dead.
Each of their fallen was brought to another Below Cavern, the Cavern of the Dead. Carefully, Rhys and Megan prepared their four children, brushing out the girls’ hair and straightening their clothes. At last, they placed their yucca sleeping mats over their children and conducted their own private farewell ceremony. Nearby, others were doing the same thing. Here in the Cavern of the Dead, the deceased would quickly dehydrate forming mummified bodies that slowly turned into dust, joining with the sands of Anwyn.
Finally, the two grief stricken parents returned to their own chambers Below. Both broke down, sobbing and holding each other tightly. Their home, once filled with four children, now seemed utterly deserted, devoid of the sparking life it once had had. As their tears subsided, one or the other would look around their vacant chambers and notice one of their children’s things and their crying began anew. Finally, their intense grief subsided.
“Why, Rhys? Why did the dragons attack us? We’ve never done anything to them?” wailed Megan.
“I don’t know. I surely do not know. This was wholly unprovoked. I simply will not allow this to continue. I am going to Message their leader, this Donatello fellow and ask him!” Rhys had now risen to anger. He sat down on his yucca mat and focused, casting his Message spell.
Donatello. Rhys Seren of Fair Wyn here. A dozen of your Brown Dragons just attacked our humble village and murdered our four children and killed many others. I am giving you this sole opportunity to explain why this happened.
We are at war with you humans. You have killed many of our children and many of us dragons. It has to stop. Donatello replied via his Message spell. He had not yet heard from the other four returning dragons on their successes at wiping out small human establishments in the vastness of the desert. Thus, he did not know of the staggering losses that band had suffered.
I agree, this has to stop and it will! This cannot go unpunished, Donatello. I will give you Brown Dragons twenty-four hours to leave Anwyn and never return. If any are still on this planet after that, they shall suffer the rage of my retribution.
I give you my solemn word: all remaining dragons on Anwyn will be killed. I will show them no mercy, just as your dragons did to our helpless children! He broke the connection.
“I gave them one day to vacate Anwyn. After that, I will begin systematically killing every last dragon on Anwyn!” Rhys proclaimed.
“I am with you, Rhys. I will show them no mercy!” Megan supported him. “Come, let us prepare our things. Anwyn is big. We will need supplies. I shall not stop until the last dragon on Anwyn is dead or gone from here forever!”
“Excuse me, Rhys, how come our spells didn’t work so well on them?” a fellow villager asked.
“I don’t know. They are dragons. However, our Sand Spike spells have proven most effective. We shall use them to kill all the remaining dragons on Anwyn. I give you my solemn word on that, Agrona,” Rhys declared vehemently.
“Do you want some help?” she asked.
“No, you are in charge of the village for now. Keep everyone Below where they are safe from the wonton ravages of these out of control dragons, while Megan and I get rid of them forever,” Rhys ordered. She bowed and returned to her own chambers; she’d also lost a child this day.
“How can that be? Eight dead? A tiny village oasis? No Archmages?” Donatello fumed and paced his cavern worriedly. Shocking, distressing, impossible — unless this was Baron Zoran’s secret super-weapon. He glared at the four surviving browns. “Are you sure that Zoran was not there?”
“Er, we don’t know him, but I swear we saw no one holding rods or anything. A few cast paltry spells at us and a couple got lucky with their Magical Missiles. I sensed none of the Archmages — excepting, well, we did get a sniff of magical energies from the village as a whole. I thought it rather unusual. None of the other villages have had such an aura about them,” one brown replied.
“I swear, boss, it was powerful magic that we’ve never seen before! The sand, the desert sand just formed into these giant spikes and ripped up through their bodies. It was awful,” another replied. He added, “And we didn’t see anyone doing it, no person holding a rod causing it, no one standing still concentrating — just nothing. The terrified villagers were in complete chaos, just as they always are when we attack.”
Ignoring the warning of Rhys, Donatello was completely past the twenty-four hour mark. He was not about to be bullied by some unknown human. Well, that was not entirely true. He had seen this fellow once before quite a long time ago. As with most humans, Donatello paid him no mind at all and didn’t recall the incident at all. It was as important to him as a five-year-old grocery shopping list might be to your mother. “Okay, gather our whole force here on Anwyn. Let us go retrieve our dead and see what we can learn from the battlefield,” he ordered.
Thirty-two browns soon took flight and Shadow Walked to the oasis of Fair Wyn. Circling high above the oasis, Donatello saw the crystal blue waters and the green tops of the trees standing in sharp contrast from the orange-brown desert sands that stretched off in all directions. His shape eyes zeroed in on a brownish mass and he gracefully glided down towards that patch, growing more and more angry the lower he descended. Carrion birds and hyenas were gorging themselves on the carcasses of the eight slain browns. A dozen birds and sixteen scavengers dashed off in all directions as the enormous black shadows of the winged dragons swept over the sands near their feast.
Seeing no villagers, Donatello landed beside the remains and sent a dozen into the village to look for survivors. “Bring anyone alive to me. Count their dead,” he ordered and began his own inspection of the fallen browns. Each of the dead had an enormous puncture wound right through the middle of their bodies as if they had been skewered by some gigantic spike! “My god! What did this? It must be Zoran’s super-weapon! Okay, I am going to bring Werner to see this. Round up all the remaining villagers. We will want to interrogate them thoroughly when I get back with him.” Donatello lifted off of the desert sands and stepped into the Shadows.
“Dearest, you were right! The dragons have returned to the scene of their crimes. Do you suppose that they want to bury their dead, much as we do?” Megan asked. She and Rhys were invisible and sitting on the ruins of the roof of their adobe home. Rhys had insisted that they be patient and wait. Now they were rewarded, though Megan was a bit daunted by the sheer number of browns circling around them. They watched as the group landed.
“That’s the leader, Donatello, over there looking at the dead dragons. I’ll give him time to bury his dead and then decide to leave Anwyn. I know my warning of twenty-four hours has just elapsed, but he is here now and is seeing for himself that we mean what we say. Look, the dragons are entering the village once more. Be ready to Sand Merge if they get too close to us,” Rhys cautioned his wife.
“They are going through each home. They aren’t taking anything. What are they doing? Looking for us?” she asked. She overheard the dragons talking and had her answer. They were looking for survivors. Rhys had once again been right in having the survivors go Below to safety.
As the dragons approached the remains of their adobe home, both cast their spell and merged into the desert sands around their home. Two small waves of sand, like a silent sailboat’s wake, slipped out of the village a short distance and then stopped. None noticed two tiny spikes of sand protruding inches above the surrounding sandy desert floor. Both continued to watch and listen. Rhys hoped and prayed that Donatello would heed his warning and leave Anwyn. Both were surprised when a short while later, Donatello returned with a number of blacks and reds with him.
“It is a good thing that you have spotted this new weapon of Zoran’s,” Werner, the black, said as they landed. “Let’s see what it has done to your poor fellows. We were just about to launch and all-out attack here. Oh my! What could possibly have done this? I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Werner exclaimed, shocked at the huge puncture holes in the eight carcasses. He examined the dead browns a bit before suggesting, “Donatello, we should leave and discuss this matter. You are sure that the messenger who ordered you to leave was not Baron Zoran?”
“Absolutely, unless he has totally changed his entire appearance. Let us go then.” Donatello lifted off followed by a large number of dragons. A few remained behind, rapidly burying the eight dead and giving them a brief ceremony.
“That sounded hopeful,” Megan said. She and Rhys canceled their spells and returned to the surface and their bodies. “He did say we should leave. Do you suppose that he meant to leave Anwyn like you asked?”
“I couldn’t tell for sure. We should give them the benefit of our doubts, after all, that’s what we want — for the dragons to abandon Anwyn. We’ll wait a little longer, dearest,” Rhys replied.
“Look, there were no signs of Zoran at that oasis, Donatello. Besides, how could Zoran possibly know that your forces were going to attack that tiny site? You yourself told me that your browns merely swept across the sands looking for likely targets. They chose to attack Fair Wyn on the spur of the moment. I cannot fathom how Zoran could possibly have known about it or even had time to interfere,” Werner, the black, countered Donatello’s insistence that the destruction of his eight browns was the work of this new super-weapon that Zoran’s people had brought back from Voss.
“Rather let us consolidate our striking forces tomorrow. The weather is atrocious on many of the worlds at the moment. We cannot even find the towns on Adapazan — so much snow. We will attack the baron’s fortresses here on Anwyn and see if we can lure Zoran and his army of Archmages here and eliminate them,” Werner, the black, explained his newest plan.
Chapter 39 The Battle for Anwyn
The second week in February brought no relief from the snows. As Zoran looked out at Brn from his snow covered roof, half of the city was buried in drifts nearly ten feet tall. In normal times, the townsfolk would have been steadily shoveling out after each storm. With all of the people now living far beneath his fortress, the snow continued to pile up with each passing storm.
Ba
ron! We’re under attack! Dragons! Hundreds of them! Help us! My brothers have just reported that their fortresses and Circles are also under attack by hundreds of dragons! We cannot possibly withstand this massive assault! Help us or Anwyn is lost! Baron Cadfeel fairly screamed across the Shadows as he frantically Mind Linked to Zoran, the only person that he thought could possibly save him. If asked, he would have had no idea how this massive assault could possibly be withstood.
Zoran began systematically Messaging his extended groups. Evsen and Dusan took their Strike Forces to the Beawenn Castle and Ceri Castle respectively. Archmage Karel accompanied Evsen’s Strike Force One. These two groups had been on alert and had practiced for just such an emergency call. Hence, within two minutes of the Message from Zoran, their groups raced off into the Shadows to come to the aid of the two younger barons. Meanwhile, Zoran gathered up his group and issued the crucial Rods of Dragon Slaying to many of the Archmages.
“I don’t like this, Zoran. We are going to the rescue of one of your archenemies?” Jarka complained and asked.
“They are humans first,” he replied. “If Baron Cadfeel is correct, there are hundreds of dragons attacking his fortress at Alun Castle. If the force is too great for us to handle, we get out. No heroics. Stay close to your Duska. Everyone: cast all of your protection spells, and we’ll Shadow Walk to Anwyn and see if we can stop the battle.” Several minutes later, the large group slipped into the Shadows, adrenaline pumping in the early morning frost.