|
The whole clan
cheered Freki and his courage, even his father clapped him on the
shoulder and smiled at him. He saw what Lord Fergil really thought
behind the smile. He knew his father was worried about their clan's
future. They had insulted a dragon, one with great power and dangerous
allies. They would never be safe again. That realization gave Freki a
cold feeling, so he allowed his kin their moment of victory while he
waited for the gas to dissolve completely and allow him to claim the
prize he had cut from the dragon's flesh.
When he is able to find the piece of dragon hide he
discovers only a few scales and the tip of a talon. The acidic gas has
dissolved the flesh and hide from the rockhard scales and nail. He
stuffs the remains in a pouch and rejoins the clan preparing to leave.
Before sunrise the entire camp is packed and ready to move. At dawn
Lord Fergil led the clan out of the ravine and toward the eastern
mountains. The lord knew of RendGrave and also knew the eastern barrier
range was just outside the dragon's territory.
Freki wanted to remain in the hills and gather enough men
to challenge the dragons. The clan alone didn't have enough warriors to
affect any assault, but if Freki could gain allies in his crusade
against the dragons, they could finally be free of the patrols and
their hidden existence. Lord Fergil knew there would be no peace for
the clan until RendGrave was slain, so he allowed his son to gather
what allies he could and promised to add the Rholth clan to any attack
on the dragon.
|
|
|
 |
|
Freki began by
travelling to the closest clan, the Grisht. In the night, he was
awakened by something tugging at his belt. Freki quickly snatched at
the handle of his sword and found it unmolested. He sat up and drew the
blade, but found nothing there. He did find the pouch in which he had
placed the dragon scales was untied. Reaching in to check on his prize,
Freki found a leather string with the scales and talon arranged in an
amulet. He tied the string around his neck and found himself strangely
calm once it was in place.
Believing it to be a gift from Belrus, Freki continued to
the Grisht. He found them in their grand gulch as ussual. They often
spent the warm part of the year in the cool gulch, nothing seemed out
of the ordinary on sight. Freki still had a bad feeling as soon as he
entered the tiny village. The people reacted no different than they
ever had, however something was wrong. Freki travelled right up the
center of the gulch to the home of the leader of the clan.
At the sight of the elder man, Freki understood his first
feeling. Lord Vers was unnaturally pale, his eyes red-rimmed and half
closed, still devoured every bit of the scene before him. Dead-Hand
came unbidden to his hand and with a mighty swing Freki drove it into
the vampiric lord. He screamed and grabbed at the blade before
disintegrating into a pile of ash. Freki turned to move out into the
open. He saw the villagers for what they truly were: vampires. From the
surrounding buildings and caves came a rush of ghouls, the vampiric
villagers driving them forward.
|
|
