| "So why are we here again?" Astra whispsers to Willian as the fivesome
goes trooping down. "And is it me, or does the wind remind you of the dead
moaning at night?"
"Aye, it does at that," Willian whispers back. "I like this not."
"To be quiet frank, none of us really like this." rumbles the werebear
known as Pall. "In fact, NONE of us want to be here after sundown. With
the sudden death of so many souls, without being put to rest.......the
spirits of the dead will REALLY be restless until we give their corpses
a proper burial.
"Indeed, that's why Pardre Fin was very useful." Alicia says, "Not only
is good luck to give a person a decent burial, it's a good idea. Unless,
of course, you want to deal with the ghost, after dark."
"Aye, it is little wonder that the locals ran for the jungle," Willian
sighs. "The locals probably feared the plague, and headed to the apparent
safety of the jungle. I wouldna even be surprised that their will be a
taboo at approaching the cities were the plague struck, as their descendants
turn into savages...... Maybe it'll even be seen as a judgment from the
Creator, to punish the excesses of the sinners."
"Oh, and don't bother whispering, my dear," Willian chuckles, seeing
the befuddled look of his beloved. "They have sharper ears than what you
are used to."
The adventurers continue on, wincing every once in a while as a really
pugnent sample of the decomposing bodies is slapped in their faces by the
wind. Fred, to get the others mind off of the death and decay around them
(if only a little bit) goes over some factors that will be looked over
in this port city.
"There, you were right about this place, cousin!" Fred shouts, tail
whipping about in his excitement. "The old walls of the original settlement
are still here."
"Well, but of course!" Willian says in a gallant tone. "The real growth
in this port city only started in the last few years, with the recent upswing
in the main ingredient of dragonbane . . . . the other components are pretty
common!"
"Wait," Loam says, suddenly seeing something. "Your saying that . .
. . silver is the main ingrediant of this 'dragonbane' stuff?"
"Yep," Willian chuckles. "There's no really reason for keeping it a
secret anymore. It's a national specialty of the Kingdom, and I and Fred
happen to be apprenticed to dragonbane smiths."
"Yes, you Allapians always were famed for it," Astra says ruefully.
"That, and being almost paranoid in keeping the process a secret!"
"Do tell?" Loam mutters. "Well, does that account for that large silver
shipment that those pirates were going to hit?"
"Maybe," Fred says. "That's why we imported silver . . . among other
things into our country. It wasn't like we didn't have the resources in
our mines, it was just that it was just so bloody deep in the ground! Mining
was difficult and expensive. Importing was easier."
"One thing I've been wondering, Willian," Pall says, scratching his
hairy head. "You said that you used this stuff on Minestus. Why is it considered
unknightly using it?"
"Because it makes dragon hunting so easy," Fred mutters. "It isn't sporting,
nor wise. And IF we used this dragonbane on TOO many dragons and start
to really whittle down on the population . . . .You remember Amberville?
That dragon strike was because a wizard got a little over zealous back
then, and killed hundreds of dragons! Now, us dragon slayers are considered
a nuisance, the dragons consider the dragons we kill as being either unlucky
or unskilled . . . .in other words, unfit to live. It's a fine balance.
. . . that the golems have probably thrown out of whack. I don't think
that the golems are exactly worried, if Carradene is right about the dragons
reeling under the golems assault. He says that they might even go extinct......"
"I know one wyrm I'd like to be extinct," Pall mutters darkly. "Minestus."
"We all want him dead, Pall" Fred says, patting the huge bear on the
back. "I know that you have personal reasons. Your family.......I'm sorry......"
The huge werebear finally nods.
"I think I see why, now, that you were so happy about coming here, Fred."
Pall says. "You want what we might find in the harbor."
"The old quarters, if cleaned up could prove to be a perfect defense
against conventional attack," Alicia says. "And if we can create enough
dragonbane, protect ourselves with ballistas and other missile weapons.
That's what you were hinting at, last night in bed?"
"Indeed," Fred says, smiling. "We just have to find enough supporting
evidence to convince the others. I was 'elected' leader, not born to the
position. It takes another set of skills to be 'elected' than the other.
One skill is the art of persuasion."
"And don't you just enjoy it?" Loam chuckles. "Oh, it isn't a game to
you, but it does give you a thrill that they chose you. That and the challenge
that it entails . . . . .the thrill of a job well done when you go about
solving the problems of the Pack......."
Fred blinks and frowns. Loam's words did have a . . . ring of truth
to it. There was a certain . . . satisfaction to this position he had been
thrown into . . . . what that really meant would bear closer examination.
Latter, that is. Somewhere between seeing if he could set up a defensible
position for the Pack. Somewhere before or after he came up with an idea
on how to FINALLY bringing his father to justice. Somewhere . . . . before
or after the time he finally goes to kill the killer, Minestus . . . who
had made the magical disease that had devastated Terra . . . . . the one
who had warped his and the Pack's bodies into humanoid animals . . . .
. and the one who might . . . .just have the key to the cure for both the
worldwide sickness AND the lycanthropy.
Fred mutters silently at the last part.
|
