The Dragons
of
Neverwind
k.R. McClellan
Website: www.krmcclellan.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/krmcclellanauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/kR_McClellan
Contact: [email protected]
Copyright © 2019 K.R. McClellan
All rights reserved.
Cover by Back Alley Creative
Dedication
This book is dedicated to an author that has helped me out so much this past year. I began writing this book in January of 2019 and by June of that year I had stalled at about 50,000 words. Due to internal conflicts and life in general, I had no more words in me. I was lost. My struggle was with gender dysphoria, a condition I have had for as long as I can remember. With an understanding wife, I was able to cope all these years, but it wasn’t until a good friend, Mal Cooper came out of her own closet and announced her transitioning to the world, that I was finally able to gain the strength to do the same. And I am now free. Though the dysphoria is and always will be there, I now know I have a far larger support group that I could have possibly imagined. Mal Cooper is an inspiration, not only to the transgender community, but to the world on how to own yourself, and own the world around you. She is an inspiration. And on many levels, I owe you my life.
Thank you, Mal. I cherish your friendship.
Check out Mal’s library of books on Amazon HERE.
Acknowledgements
None of my books would exist without the help and encouragement of my wife, Jolene. She has supported my crazy ideas, my gender issues, and my crappy sense of humor for over 26 years, and she doesn’t seem to be growing weary of it. I love you will all my heart, and always will.
Also, thank you to my beta readers, and to Michael Goeres for proof reading the manuscript.
Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
About the Author
Other Books by k.R. McClellan
Prologue
Legend has it that the young wizard was ill-prepared to take on Dragonroth 200 years ago. The last, and most ferocious dragon to ever terrorize Neverwind, only the most powerful of the wielders of magic could even have a chance at defeating the beast. Dragonroth, having lit most of the west half of Neverwind on fire, was setting out to scorch the remainder of the known world at the orders of a sorcerer that somehow managed to gain control of the dragon.
The Wizard of Whitshire, as he was known in the lower hemisphere of Neverwind, was making his way North to meet the dragon, and the sorcerer head to head. Whitshire, the only city in the western half of Neverwind still standing, was certain to be next on the list of cities to be burned and conquered. The wizard was not about to let that happen. He stood at the Northern edge of the city, accompanied by the entire Whitshire army, waiting for the impending attack to come.
Tensions were high as the army stood in ranks, waiting for someone to give the order to advance. But as-of-yet, there was nothing to advance to. And who knew for sure if there would be? The dragon could fly right over their heads and into Whitshire and burn it to the ground unimpeded, army or no army. It was the hope of the general of the army that the dragon would find amusement in the boldness of the army, and take pleasure in taking it on first, before moving on to the city. And it was the hope of the general that the army, with the help of the Wizard of Whitshire, might have a chance, however slim, of stopping the dragon before it could do any more damage. The General and the soldiers he commanded knew full well the odds were against them. Only the wizard felt any sort of confidence.
Hours passed, and the anxiety the warriors felt had slowly been replaced with tedium, and many mumbled amongst themselves, offering conjecture that they might be allowed to go home for the night. Their hopes became dashed when word started spreading through the ranks, and many pointed at the sky to the north. A speck at first, then as is closed in, the unmistakable form of a dragon could be seen cutting arcs in the sky, blasting flames of warning as it darted.
“Dragonroth,” the wizard whispered to himself. He looked at the ranks, and dozens of the king’s soldiers had turned to run in fear back towards the city. He couldn’t help but have the same urge; to run away himself. But he knew that running and hiding would do no good for anyone. The flames would find him, just as they would those that run now, if he doesn’t do his part to stop this giant flame slewing beast once and for all.
The dragon closed quickly, and it passed low overhead so quickly that the archers didn’t even have time to ready their bows. It swooped low over the houses on the outskirts of the city, setting several ablaze as he zoomed past. Then it arched around and gained altitude. In an instant, it turned back towards the ground and in a quick, low pass, ignited all the retreating warriors before they could reach the safety of the city. Their screams, though loud and gut-wrenching, lasted only but a few seconds. The only mercy they could have hoped for was a quick death, and they got it.
Arching up once more, Dragonroth did a complete barrel roll then looped back down towards the ground, landing with a thud in front of the now fear frozen army. A blast of flames precisely large enough to warm up the faces of the men standing at attention, and only long enough for them to put their shields up to protect themselves. The dragon let out a roar that mimicked laughter at seeing the diminutive warriors cower behind their useless shields.
“Archers, fire!” the general yelled, loud enough for all to hear. The archers in the rear of the ranks fired arrows in a volley over the heads of those in front. Most of the arrows flew true, and met their mark, causing the dragon to wince a bit. The hearts of the warriors sunk as all of the arrows bounced off the dragon’s armor-like scales. Though it didn’t appear as though the attack angered the dragon, it did seem to annoy it, as it let out a blast of flames the ignited the entire center of the ranks, up to several rows back. More of the men turned to run, some with flames on their backs, arms, and heads.
“Charge!” the general ordered, and though the order was loud enough for all to hear, only a small number of the bravest of warriors ran towards the dragon. “Charge, damn you all! Charge!”
More of the men obeyed the order, running headlong towards the dragon. The General looked at the wizard, who stood there silently, eyes closed.
“Wizard, why don’t you do something instead of just standing there? Wizard, do you hear me?”
The man of magic ignored the general’s cries. As the first of the men reached the dragon and were consumed by f
lames, he opened his eyes and began to twirl his arms in counter-rotating directions over his head. As he did so, a blue, electric looking ball formed between and around his hands as they twirled. The intensity of the ball grew brighter and brighter, when, at once he threw the ball towards the dragon.
Taken by surprise, the dragon was hit square in the head with the giant fireball, knocking him backward. The few remaining men left to attack the dragon pounced at the chance to get to its open, unprotected chest. But the dragon wasn’t going to stay down long. Quickly, it jumped back to its rear feet again, crushing two of the warriors in doing so, and quick frying the remaining attackers with a quick spray of its burning oil breath.
Enraged, the dragon let out a roar that rattled eardrums and leaped into the air. It made a quick pass over the city, lighting several more buildings on fire, then it took a wide circle behind the hills to the north.
“Is it gone?” the general asked.
“I think it’s regaining its senses and will be back. That fireball I hit it with was very powerful. Only the strongest of creatures could withstand it. I will need to hit it with a spell that might very well drain me of my magic forever. I must prepare. Do not interrupt me until the dragon is dead.”
“Sure… whatever you say.”
The general frantically set about regrouping the remaining soldiers he had; a small fraction of what he started with. The wizard, once again, stood facing the north, eyes closed, and he seemed to be mumbling something to himself. The general watched him curiously, but when the dragon once again appeared to the north, closing fast, he had to resist the urge to interrupt the wizard and let him know.
The dragon, closing at great speeds, was blasting fire along its path, scorching the ground as he flew low and fast. As Dragonroth neared, the wizard finally opened his eyes, and with one great blast from his arms, a massive wave of energy shot out towards the beast. Before their eyes, the wave turned into a spinning, shrieking blade heading straight for the unsuspecting dragon. Its final blast of flames was cut short as the spectral blades cut into its flesh repeatedly, ripping it to shreds sending pieces high into the air.
In the days and weeks to come, pieces of the dragon could be found for miles. The Wizard of Whitshire was hailed as a hero, though he would lie in a coma for years. Royal healers would look after him by order of the king for as long as he remained alive. When he finally woke up, it was years before he would utter another spell.
Chapter 1
I know what you’re thinking. You think Gnath is an ogre. Heaven’s no, he ain’t no ogre. Just because all four feet and three inches of me is overshadowed by his seven-foot-something frame and massive girth, don’t mean he’s a damn ogre. Half ogre, on his mother’s side.
Now, for those of you following along in my manuscript, Gnath is pronounced with a hard ‘G’. Like Guh-nath. But not so hard. An easier ‘G’, so it’s more like G’nath. But no apostrophe. I think you got it. Gnath.
“I’m Wellington. I’m short, but I’m crafty. Some people like to comment on my oversized head and think I’m a pixie or something, but no. I am simply a freak of nature, half-elf, half-human on my father’s side, but all guts and glory. That would be me. Tough as nails, old Wellington is. Except in a fight. I leave those up to Gnath.
So, what are we doing in the woods on this hot, midday in the Spring? Good question, dear reader. I will try to explain. Two days ago Gnath and I set out of Darkhollow and headed for the small burg of Hammelberry Commons; a lovely little mining town stinking of oxidized ferric metal and money. Gnath and I were running short of money, and bless the Deities, I love money. But I am doomed to never get too much. Just my luck.
Or rather the luck of the Amulet of Chance I am cursed with. I found it twenty years ago, shining bright in a dark, back of Farrador. I had been mugged, I was without money save five d’nar I had in another pocket, and looking for a spot in the alley to relieve myself. Anyway, the dead body whose neck it was looped around didn’t seem to mind me taking it.
In its defense, it is a very pretty amulet. The bluish gem in the center seems to glow in just the right light amidst its shiny gold setting. At first, I figured it was merely costume jewelry, but upon further inspection, it appeared that it was in fact, a solid gem of some sort. Not a diamond, but something precious. And then I saw the inscription on the back. It was then I realized this bauble was cursed. Or blessed. I have yet to figure it out.
‘til death do us part. The bearer of this amulet will have luck in the games of chance. Be warned! Gain only what you need and nothing more. Or your chance will run out.
Well, I have to tell you my friends, that didn’t sound fun at all. I quickly put the necklace back around the neck of the poor deadling lying on the alley and walked away. Within seconds I felt the amulet hanging around my neck. Spooked, I was. It was not a good feeling. I quickly pulled it off my neck and tossed it aside as I made a hasty exit of the alleyway. Before I could take my next breath it was once again around my neck. Damn magic.
So, I resigned myself to not think about it until I could get a wizard to remove the curse. Unfortunately, there were no wizards for hire in any of the towns I knew of.
So there I was, wondering what I should do next, with the thought of picking pockets for change sounding like the least healthy career choice, I decided to take my last few coins and find a game of Onesy-Twosy to try to win a few d’nars and get something to eat and drink. It was not long after I met Gnath.
As we walked the main streat of Hammelberry Commons, a small crowd was gathered around a town crier who was yelling something about the Castle City of Edenkeep. As we neared, we began to make out his message.
“Warning from the north, in the Castle City of Edenkeep, word is a dragon has appeared! Farms burned; villages terrorized! The warning was sent down that all travelers steer clear of the Castle City, ‘lest you find yourself scorched to a charred lump of coal! Again…”
He repeated his message several times, and each time he spoke the word dragon the crowd gasped, as though they had seen a ghost. They gasped, even though most had already heard the boy repeat the story several times. Entertainment must truly be lacking in Hammelberry Commons.
We pressed onward, and as luck would have it, the local Inn, creatively called the Miner’s Inn, seemed to be lively and advertised Onesy-Twosy games on the outside windows. Gnath and I made our way into the establishment. As we entered, all eyes turned to look us up and down. The first time anyone looks at Gnath, people either wonder if he’s there to wreck the place, or if they could take him in a fight. Gnath brought those feelings out in people.
I found a Onesy-Twosy table open, and I approached with a confidence that overshadowed my small size.
“May I join the game, gentleman?” I asked in my most sanguine voice.
Those at the table turned and looked me up and down – well, mostly down, and they all broke into laughter.
“Little old man, you should be home in a rocking chair!” a large human, grimy with rust and dirt blurted out. “Go home! This isn’t a game for old elf’s like you.”
“Half-elf, thank you. And in elf years, I am younger than any of you.”
“Who you calling a gentleman, old man?” a gruff-looking, dirty, short-haired humanish-man asked, seemingly a bit agitated. “Don’t you know a woman when you see one?”
“Maybe when he sees one, he will! Bwahaha!” one of the other gamblers said pounding his fist on the hard wooden table, bursting into his own obnoxious laughter.
“Shut up, Halroth! I can kick your arse!”
“Gentleman, and lady. I simply wish to play a few hands and try my luck. Certainly, you can’t be wary of an old man willing to lose a few coins and go home to his rocking chair.”
“Okay, old man. Sit yourself down and anti-up.”
I gestured for Gnath to make his way to the other side of the inn so that they wouldn’t accuse me of using him to cheat. A funny notion, since Gnath doesn’t know Onesy’s from Tw
osy’s. I placed one my two remaining coins on the table and the only girl at the table began to deal the cards.
“Same rules this time. Ones and twos is high, Jackspade Robins go home.”
Jackspade Robin? What on Neverwinds is that? I have a fair understanding of Onesy-Twosy, but this Jackspade Robin must be a local thing.
As I reached for the two cards dealt me, I could feel a small vibration coming from the amulet hanging from my chest. I’ll be damned if I hadn’t forgotten all about that cursed thing. I picked up the cards, and to my surprise, I saw two ones in my hand. Now, anyone that knows anything about Onesy-Twosy knows that twos, and ones, are the best you can get… unless the dealer says otherwise, but remember she said ones and twos are high. So, this is good.
When the next round of cards came to me, again the amulet vibrated ever so subtly and when I looked at my card, I’ll be darned if it weren’t a one.
I raised my bet with my last coin and hoped the betting didn’t go another round because I didn’t have another coin to up the ante.
By the time the wagering had made its way back around to me, everyone had called, and as I looked at my last card, I was excited to see another two. I called as well, and once again the cards made their way around the table, and when I picked up my final card, a two ‘filled the chamber’, as they say.
“Okay, let’s see what you got,” the dealer girl said.
I looked around at everyone reluctantly placing their cards down. One of the miners laid down his hand of three Princes, and a one high. But when I showed my Full Chamber of three twos and two ones, the table went silent.
“Not bad for an old man, wouldn’t ya say?” I said as I reached with every inch of my puny arms to drag my winnings towards me.
“Wait on second! What are you doing?” the dealer lady barked. The table became agitated and I could see they were all looking at me with hateful anger in their eyes. “You got a Jackspade Robin. That means you lose, stranger!”
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