cmdrnemo

Chapter 2:

Shandre (Hardcalcite)

Drystan (Rubysmiter)

Nasse Faridir

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“Shandre, have you ever stopped to ask why we are here?” Drystan, guardian of the dragonhold, said standing at rigid formation. He stared straight ahead. Suites designed for long dead dragons on the rare occasion they would visit Tronjheim. An area unused for centuries. In the distance a lone dwarf swept the pale stone.

“By Grabthar’s Hammer and the twin suns of Korhal! Drystan, that is a question of depth and meaning.” Shandre raised a plate gauntlet against the sun. He looked ahead. A view of old carved stone. Unused since the fall of the dragon riders. “Indeed, why are we here? For what reason have the gods placed us on this rock? We could while away many an hour on such a question.”

“True my friend. But, not the question I was asking.” Drystan shifted his stance. “I am left to wonder. Why must this place, which has not been used in centuries and may never be used again, need guards at the gate.”

“This is true.With the watchers at towers surrounding the mountain. Our presence here seems solely to keep an eye on the dwarf with the broom.”

“Are they worried he will steal the dust?”

“I believe we have not yet striped the dragon lairs of content. Much of it must be of value.”

“Hundreds of years and we haven’t converted this space to storage or farming. Leaving fragile materials in place in case a dragon rider should come to visit. While we are by many measures at war with the only dragon rider in the world for all this time.”

“Depending on the future the king will be seen as either prophetic or foolish.”

“Shandre Hardcalcite, are you claiming the king of Tronjheim is a fool?”

“Apologies Drystan. I am more concerned I may have called him a prophet.”

“That room,” Drystan pointed with his axe. “Holds at least thirty sets of adjustable dragon armour. Differing sizes and styles crafted by the old masters for those horrid monstrosities.”

“At the very least we could recover such a quantity of good steel.” Shandre glanced upward. So much blue stretching to the very stars with only the smallest wisps of cloud overhead. He looked away quickly, suppressing a shudder.

There came the familiar clanking of a running dwarf from the stairs behind. Neither guard turned as a messenger in light mail charged past. He turned to them. Bent over, panting, from the run up so many stairs. “A new dragon rider has come!” He shouted the words despite standing only inches from the guards. “He has the name! His dragon is an unknown blue! The end of the age of oppression is in sight!”

Drystan looked to the newcomer. Who continued “A feast is to be held all should attend.”

Drystan countered with “Do not be so foolish. Send for cleaners, servants, and staff. The first dragon rider in three centuries to visit these halls is not going to find our king’s hospitality lacking.”

“Armour will need cleaning and sizing. Bedding will need replaced, light brought into places unlit these long years” Shandre said. Looking back to the sky. “There is something up there,” he muttered.

“Go quickly! We must not abandon our post.” Drystan said. The messenger ran back down the stair. “Hail to the king and prophet.” His companion had set shield aside to hold a hand against the sun. “Shandre, what do you see?”

“There is not but the sky. Apologies friend, for a moment I felt eyes from above.”