Erzimar shifted in his seat, looked up at the straw-haired tracker leaning against the back wall, and asked, 'You saw the dragon take them?'
The fellow looked up. His face was streaked with sweat, and his eyes seemed pale and unfocused, as if he looked on distant and terrible things.
'No,' Selran managed. 'They hired me to serve as a guide to the area, and to help watch their mounts. I did not enter the cave. The dragon called out to me when it was done. Told me to run back home and carry its demands for tribute.' He cast his gaze down to the dusty floorboards again. 'Its name is Serpestrillvyth.'
'Did you pay its tribute?' Erzimar asked Ethern.
'We tried. We scraped together a thousand gold coins, twenty head of cattle, six casks of good wine-it wasn't easy. Then, when we sent the wagon to the place the dragon had told us to, a band of trolls attacked and took it all. We think the dragon put them up to it, because the very next day it killed a little boy, and told his father that the town had better come up with another ransom to replace the one the trolls took.'
Bragor the dwarf nodded, his beard spilling over his mailed chest, and said, 'Aye, that's an old dragonish trick. Steal the ransom you demanded, and get paid twice.'
'We argued long and hard over whether or not to pay again. Alderman Torbath argued most vehemently against it. He pointed out that we might as well spend the coin to hire dragonslayers to rid ourselves of the monster.'
Erzimar looked at the elders and asked, 'I'm sorry, but I don't recall-which one of you is Torbath?'
The cooper looked away and said, 'He's not here, sir. He's dead. The dragon crept right into the middle of town one night and killed him in his bed.'
'It found out that Torbath was going to be trouble, and it took care of him,' the innkeeper said. He coughed awkwardly. 'After that, we sent out word that we needed a dragonslayer.'
'The dragon seems well informed about the town,' Gethred murmured to the wizard in Elvish.
'It's not unexpected,' Erzimar replied in the same language. 'It could be a sorcerer of some skill; a lot of dragons are. A few divination spells would easily let it keep an eye on things here. I've warded us against scrying, just in case.'
'It could have someone spying for it.'
'Or it could have spies, yes. We won't rule out anything yef,'Erzimar answered. He turned his attention to the tracker leaning against the back wall, and spoke in Common again. 'Selran, did you see the dragon?'
'I did. Just a glimpse of the monster, as it called out to me from its cave.'
'What color was it, and how big? The size of a horse? An oxcart? A house?'
'I'm not sure about the color. It was dark. As far as the size, I would say it was as big as a large draft horse.' The tracker looked around the taproom. 'It could fit through that door, but not by much. It would pretty much fill this room with its wings and tail and all.'
Erzimar nodded. An adult, most likely, but not particularly old and strong, at least as dragons went. Dragons grew throughout their lives, and the really old ones could be tremendously large and powerful. He glanced back to the town's spokesman.
'Have you seen it breathe anything? Fire, acid, lightning?'
'Its breath is a foul, choking, poisonous mist. It can kill everyone in a good-sized farmhouse by blowing its poison in a door or window.'
'Those who die from its breath-is their skin eaten away? Puckered and split?'
Ethern paled, but he nodded and said, 'Yes, that's the way of it.'
'It's a green, then. No doubt about it,' Bragor muttered.
He leaned over to Murgolm and explained the conversation to the Vaasan in Dwarvish.
'Can you help us?' Rothas the innkeeper asked.
'Yes,' said Erzimar. 'It's not to be taken lightly, but we've defeated dragons of that size before. Not a green, but we know what we need to do, I think.' He glanced at his companions, searching for dissent and finding none. Then he turned back to the aldermen. 'Let's discuss a suitable fee for slaying your dragon.'
They rested in Pelldith Lake for the rest of the day and all of the next. The company armed and provisioned for an expedition to the dragon's lair, and they hired the tracker Selran to show them the way. They rode out into the hills above the town in the brief cool hour just after sunrise. Selran rode in the lead, dressed in a sweat-stained jerkin of leather sewn with iron rings, a long bow of yew across his back.
The day was still and sweltering. A distant line of thunderheads slowly gathered in the hazy west, but the low thunder rumbled throughout the afternoon without ever drawing closer. They climbed over endless thicket- covered ridges and splashed through boggy dells, shallow and scummy after the summer drought.
An hour before dusk Selran led them to a ruined hunter's lodge by a reedy lake.
'We're still five miles from the dragon's cave,' the ranger said. 'I don't dare bring the horses any closer, or it might sniff them out and find us in the night.'
'We'll fortify this place with our spells, just in case,' Erzimar replied. 'It wouldn't do to let Serpestrillvyth catch us sleeping.'
While the mage worked his magic and laid his wards, Gethred and Murgolm tended to the horses, and Bragor saw to the cooking as best he could without lighting a fire. Isildra and Selran stood guard, watching the darkening sky and the warm, still woods. The ranger stood in the shadows of the trees and watched the Argent Hawks at their tasks, his face set in a stony frown.
'What is it, Selran?' Isildra asked. 'What troubles you?'
'It is nothing,' he said. Then, after a moment, he sighed and sat down on an old stump that had been cut for the lodge. 'It's just that… you're so much like the others.'
'The others?' Isildra looked at him blankly for a moment, then she nodded. 'Oh. The Fellowship of the Sundered Shield.'
Selran nodded expressionlessly and said, 'I brought them to the cave by a different path-it would have been foolish to follow the same trail twice. But this seems just like…' He seemed to struggle with himself, searching for the right words perhaps, then he gave in with an odd shrug. 'I fear for you all.'
The cleric of Helm nodded and said, 'We shall be careful, Selran. Extremely careful.'
'The Shield Fellows said the same.'
Erzimar returned from setting his magical defenses and joined the conversation with a quick smile. 'Yes, but you forget-we have an advantage over the Sundered Shields. We know this dragon has killed a company of dragonslayers. Nothing serves to sharpen one's sense of caution as well as an example like theirs.'
Isildra set a hand on Selran's arm and said, 'Helm rewards vigilance, Selran. Keep your eyes open, and speak up when something troubles you. We will listen. You know this dragon, you know this terrain. Your intuition may be our best weapon.'
The ranger sank down on a stump, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the empty woods across the lake.
'I doubt it,' he said softly. 'It's a damnably clever dragon.'
They set a half-on, half-off watch throughout the night, and even those who were not on watch slept with weapons close at hand and mail shirts or breastplates loosely fastened, ready to rise and fight at a moment's notice. But the night passed without danger, though at one point Selran cried out in his sleep and gave them all a bad start.
Afterward, Gethred pulled Erzimar aside, and the two moved a little ways off from the camp. The half-elf kept watch over Erzimar's shoulder, his hand on his sword hilt as he spoke.
'What do you think of the ranger?' he asked softly in Elvish.
'He seems shaky to me' Erzimar admitted. 'I don't know that I can blame him, though. Consider the courage it must take to return to the den of a dragon after you've seen it kill a whole band of heroes.'
'More courage than to go the first time, I suppose. Still… I don't think we should count on him, if it comes to that.'
Erzimar shrugged and replied, 'If he bolts, I don't see the harm in it. My plans do not depend on Selran in any way, shape, or form. I would feel badly for the fellow, though. If he does go, I hope he can find it in his heart to forgive himself later.'
Gethred snorted.
'I hope I can find it in mine to forgive, him, too,'he said Gethred looked into the wizard's face, and his eyes were dark and serious. 'Don't expect him to help much, Erzimar.'
