'Though I… I've always loved… the lady Alusair… from afar.'
'A princess, eh?' Ryla murmured. She pressed her lips against his cheek and her breasts against his chest. 'I can hardly compete.'
'Oh, it's just-' she kissed his neck and ear-'a boy's fantasy.'
'A fantasy…' she whispered.
She pushed him down, and Alin fell on his rump. One foot on either side of him, Ryla towered over him. She pulled the tunic over her head and stood in the moonlight in only her boots and ring. Her hair was a fiery cascade and her flawless skin sparkled. She put her hands on her hips. The movement only emphasized her curves.
'Who is your princess now?' she asked with a lusty smile.
'Y-you are,' the bard stammered.
'Perfect answer.'
Then Ryla slid down onto him, and Alin lost all ability to think. He didn't need to.
'What's new with ye, boy?' Delkin asked Alin, clapping him hard on the shoulder.
The bard didn't even notice. They were deep in the Forest of Wyrms, one of the most dangerous places in Faerun, with certain death all around, but he hardly thought about it. His star-struck eyes were fixed on Ryla's smooth shoulders as she strode ahead of them, her black half-cape shifting in the light breeze, and her hair a scarlet cascade.
'Oh, nothing,' the bard replied. 'Just musing over a dream I had last night.'
The dragonslayer's face, by chance, half turned to him. An errant strand of hair fell across her face. Alin felt warm all over.
'Several times, last night,' he added.
'By the looks of yer musing, it must've been a good 'un,' the priest said with a snicker. Then Delkin's expression turned serious. 'Don't let it distract ye. There be dragons 'ere, and ye needs be on yer guard. What can ye tell us o' this place?'
Shaking his head to clear it of his daydreams, Alin pursed his lips. He recalled all the stories he had ever heard of the Western Heartlands and the Forest of Wyrms.
'It's said green dragons have claimed this place,' explained Alin. 'And for good reason. The beasts infest the forest as thickly as jackrabbits.'
'Keep yer eyes open,' said Delkin with a nod.
Alin nodded. He looked at the other Moor Runners as they picked through the dense helmthorn brush, trying not to be stabbed by needles that were as long as a man's hand. Scanning the ground in front of them, Thard was impassive as always, but his hand was on the axe at his belt. Ryla followed close behind him, ready to draw her blade at a moment's notice. Only Inri's attention seemed not focused on the task at hand. Instead, she watched Ryla's every move with suspicion, and more than once Alin caught her hand moving through the gestures of a spell.
'What's with Inri?' the bard asked Delkin.
Delkin wore a bemused smile when he turned to Alin and said, 'Oh, Madam Sorceress isn't too happy she's no longer the on'y lass around us Moor Runners anymore. Women kin be competitive, if'n ye know what I mean. At least she 'as Thard.'
Alin's mind filled in the details. 'Is that all?' pressed Alin.
'An' she be suspicious,' the priest admitted. 'Lady Dragon-claw's magic be concealed.'
Alin raised a finger to his lips in thought.
'Aye, a mystery,' agreed Delkin. He looked up at the front of the group. 'Lady Dragonclaw, ye're sure our dragon's here? I haven't seen or heard anything.'
'My apologies, but you're a priest, not a scout,' Ryla said, not bothering to correct him regarding her name. 'And yes. I saw him land here, and he hasn't left since the attack on the caravan.'
Reassured, the Moor Runners continued on, looking all around, all the time. Alin pressed all his senses into service, using the techniques he had learned from his master to extend his hearing into the surrounding trees.
Thus, he was startled when Inri appeared at his side, seemingly from nowhere.
'Is she not suspicious?' the elf asked. 'How could she have seen thisTharas'kalagram land here, when she was near Triel with the rest of us?'
Alin turned a scowl to her. 'Find someone else to listen to your suspicions,' he said. 'Focus on the task ahead.'
'Quiet you two,' Ryla said. 'I hear something.'
'What is it?' Delkin asked.
Ryla turned to him and said, 'A dragon.'
At that moment, a huge green wyrm burst from the trees with a roar, not ten paces from the dragonslayer. The beast was at least forty feet long and muscles pulsed along its entire serpentine body. Fiery eyes glared death down upon the five adventurers, and putrid green spittle dripped from its daggerlike fangs. Delkin shouted, raising his symbol of Lathander high, even as Thard drew his axe and Inri prepared a spell.
The creature rose up above them, its jaws opening wide. Alin would not have been surprised to see two cows from back home fit between those jaws.
Tempus!' Thard shouted, swinging his greataxe with shattering force against its foreleg.
The dragon screeched as several of its scales caved in and green blood sprayed the barbarian.
It lashed out at him with its other claw, an attack he barely ducked. The sword-length talons slashed a nearby tree in two. Thard kept rolling, for the fangs were not far behind.
Standing behind Delkin, Inri finished her chant and pointed over his shoulder, sending a bolt of lightning at the beast. It slammed into the dragon's chest, causing the huge body to spasm with electricity. Enraged, the beast breathed in and its chest bulged.
'Dragonbreath!' Delkin shouted, then immediately fell into a chant to Lathander.
The shout jarred Alin, who realized he had been watching open-mouthed as the dragon attacked, unable to respond as quickly as his fellows. His first order of business was to shut his gaping mouth, then he dived behind the priest.
At that instant, the creature exhaled, and a vast spray of corrosive green gas fell upon them. Alin screamed, for he saw choking, burning death coming for him, but the gas didn't sear his flesh. Instead, it billowed and raged around them, pushed aside by a shimmering golden shield surrounding Delkin's holy symbol.
'Ha ha!' came Ryla's shout.
The dragonslayer flew out of a nearby tree and drove her katana deep into the crown of the dragon's head. The wyrm shook and roared, but Ryla held on, wrapped her legs around its forehead, and pulled the katana out, only to plunge the blade into it again and again.
Thard came at the dragon's body again, swinging and hewing its green scales with his axe. He again went for the wound he'd made on the beast's leg, and more blood flew. The dragon, distracted with Ryla, made only half- hearted attempts to pull its injured claw away. Meanwhile, it pawed at its head with the other talons.
Alin felt a surge of triumph and leaped to his feet. Harp in hand, he plucked a discordant note and sent a wave of disharmony toward the dragon. The sound struck the creature and it recoiled for the barest of instants, keeping it from knocking Ryla from its head.
The dragonslayer screeched again and sliced her katana into one of the wyrm's eyes. The dragon roared and shook its head frantically, throwing her off. She flew, limbs spiraling wildly, over fifty feet through the air. She landed on her face a dozen paces away from Alin.
'Ryla!' Alin shouted, running from the circle of the priest's power.
'Alin, no!' snapped Delkin, dropping his shield as his concentration broke.
Thard may have been fast, but he was not fast enough to dodge the dragon's bulk as the creature lunged into their midst, barreling the hulking barbarian aside like a discarded child's toy. As Alin leaped at Ryla to cover her body with his own, a sweeping tail struck him in the midsection, launching him through the air. As he flew, he heard the screams of the other Moor Runners.
Then he slammed against a great redwood, and he heard nothing at all.
When he woke, a soft hand was touching his forehead. At first, he tried to kiss it, but then he realized it was not Ryla but Inri who was waking him.
'We were all knocked cold, but Ryla killed the beast,' Inri said before he could ask.
