The things we do to kill a dragon

Episode XX: Vengeance

A short while after Narvi awoke, Pell rode back into the remains of the lodge. Corwin and Falcon dropped the wooden beam they had been clearing from the rubble and ran over to greet him. Apparently, he had been in the stables brushing down Falcon's favourite stallion, Baatorius, when the war horns had begun. The horses were spooked, and he had leapt upon Baatorius's back and given the horse it's head, with the other mares in tow. Once the sounds of battle had died down, he had gathered the stray horses together and ridden back to the lodge.

The Silas and Lightfinger prepared a simple stew for everyone and they settled down to plan their next move. Of the strange dwarf who had appeared in the middle of the fracas, there was no sign, the company presumed he was either dead in the rubble or had been taken by the orcs as they had run away.

"We may have survived the warbands attack but some of them retreated and their leaders are not here. You were powerful adversaries but make no mistake, the orcs have left for now, but they are not finished. I'll send Corwin to Phandalin to seek help rebuilding and Pell and I will try to get the palisade patched up. Your help was much appreciated but my advice to you is to leave, and to do so soon. I only wish I could help you more." Falcon looks around catching the eye of each of the companions in turn, giving them a grim smile and a nod of appreciation.

"What do you think we should do Blare? You're the one we need to help next. You can't fight a dragon if you become more rat than man."

"I don't know Lightfinger. Don't ask me what to do. Everything was easier before. Fight and find gold. Then fight some more." Blare says despondently. "This magic stuff, it's beyond me."

"Then there is only one thing we can do big fella, fight and find a cure for you. These orcs are mixed up in magic." growls Narvi.

"We have seen them shift their forms, the potion we found may have come from one of them. And if not and it was a gift from the gods, so what. The orcs know shape shifting magics. We should go to them and take their power. By force if necessary." Elluin spoke with such a gentle voice but her heart was stone.

"What other choice do we have?" Rally asked.

"Visit the dragon barrow where it is rumoured there is a weapon to help kill dragons. Clear out Axholme so that the people of Phandalin have a sanctuary. Kill a dragon. Lose Blare." Lightfinger says in a flat tone. "I vote for hunting orc."

"We fight." Hisses Silas.

"Oh good." says Rally, "Can I borrow an axe please?"

-

As the sun approaches its zenith, the orc scout pushes back from the earthen ridge he crouches behind. His large, clawed hands leaving heavy indents in the soft earth. He has seen the warriors and spell casters slipping into the woods below, leaving the wreckage of yesterday's battle and heading in a straight line towards the circle of thunder. It was time to report back to report back to Drethna and the one they knew only as 'Shamen.'

He moves his large hands deftly in a subtle signal to the others and carefully they make their way into the darkness of the trees, keeping slightly ahead of their quarry. With luck he might get to kill the filthy, tainted, half orc runt, that betrayed his blood by protecting the dwarven scum, elven worms, draconic aberration, and human waste. Yes, he would enjoy ripping out the rounded stumps, that should be full grown tusks, from that one's skull.

-

Silas signals for the others to draw in closer and points ahead. Through the branches they can see that the trees thin into a clearing. In the centre of the open ground is a tall, blackened finger of charred wood reaching into the darkening sky. The remains of a tall, ancient tree destroyed by lightning and fire. At the base of the monolith stand three figures made of sticks, shaped into a humanoid form and bound up with black cords.