Fire and Blood: The Fall of an Empire

There weren’t always Dragons in the Valley. Keleth could remember a time when even a single Dragon had been a rare thing, a legend told to children and around campfires. Not many had really believed that they even existed. That was back when the kingdom of Yseria had controlled much of The Reach. It had been a strong nation, a dynasty that had ruled for a thousand years as much through diplomacy and clever negotiation as through force of arms. Their capitol city, so prized by the Yser as the jewel of their nation had been a sight to see, or so he had read. A marvel of engineering and architecture designed to thrill the eye and inspire the heart. A center of trade and learning with broad avenues and resplendent palaces to reflect the power and wealth of Yseria. All their might had come to naught, however, after the Awakening.

The ruins of Yenisi stood out from the forest along the valley floor, broken stone spires sticking up a hundred paces above the treetops and remnants of bridges the crisscrossed the river Gaelen as it wound its way East through the bones of the great city. Barely ten years had passed, and the forest had already begun the steady, inevitable swallowing of what men had built.

A deafening screech reverberated up the slopes to where Keleth was hidden. The forest had not been alone, of course, in killing Yenisi. Nearly a mile away from the brushy ledge, Keleth could make out the hulking form of a Dragon as it stepped from the forest and entered the shallows on the far bank of the river. At this distance, it was difficult to tell, but as it lifted its head to peer up the river, then down before bending to drink, he thought the beast’s head must reach nearly to the treetops. The Mother preserve me, he thought. Fifteen paces tall, the thing must be at least 30 paces long! And the whole length of him full of hate and fire. So, there are at least some that are fully grown. The Seer had warned him of as much, and more besides, but seeing was another matter. Had she told me everything? Did she give me all that I need to survive, or just enough to see me enter the city to die?

Even in the evening shadows, he could make out the hulking shapes of others further up the river, climbing up what remained of the buildings or moving through open spaces that must have been plazas not so long since. Even as he watched, a winged shape with a body the size of a cow flew low over the water heading West. Heading into the destroyed city the Yser had held in such pride. Light, there must be dozens. Hundreds!

“The ringing of the Juanji bells echoes the impermanence of all things.” he quoted under his breath. Then slipped carefully backwards from the ledge.

Keleth ghosted through the trees the short walk back to the hollow where he had left his men. What remained of them, anyway. Raemon was a tall man, if not so tall as Keleth himself, and muscular to boot. Round-faced Mendair rose from the log where he had been sharpening his sword and paused only long enough to slide the long blade into the sheath at his belt before walking forward. And fiery haired Shaiel whose quick tongue was only outmatched by her quick knives. It didn’t take most men much time to realize the need to watch your tongue around Shaiel. She was willing to poke you quite thoroughly full of holes for what she considered a transgression and in Keleth’s opinion, her “consideration” was mercurial thing at best. He had known her since they were children, however, and had saved her life half a dozen times besides. Not to mention that he was indebted to her for the same ten times over.

“Well?” Raemon asked quietly, “How many are there?”

“A few” Keleth said just as quitely. “No more than ten or so that I saw.”

Catching Shaiel’s eyes he could see her begin to smirk. The wry grin on her face saying as plainly as words that she was obviously seeing through his lie. She knew how important this was, though. To him. To the world.

“Just remember that we are thieves, not heroes out of some bloody story.” He said calmly. “We go in quietly, we find the Eye, and we sneak back out. Easy as lying.” He gave them what he hoped was his best, most assuring smile.

“You mean, of course” said Mendair evenly “Aside from the… ten or so... great flying beasts that can spit fire, swallow a man whole and can see like cats in the dark?”

Perhaps Shaiel had not been the only one to see through the lie.

“Ten, twenty or a hundred it makes no difference.” Keleth replied. “The Eye is more important than any one of us.”

Their nods in agreement were somber, but without hesitation. Different reasons had brought each of them to this place. Had brough them to this quest. All of them knew that without the Eye, the world was doomed to fire and death and blood.

“Well,” Shaiel said. “It’s best to be about it, then. I’d hate to get caught in there once the sun comes up.” Her grin had taken on an impish quality.

“Agreed.” Keleth said. “You all know the plan?” Again, they nodded without hesitation. “Then let’s be about it.”

Silently, Raemon turned and walked from the clearing hefting his longbow and swinging his scabbarded two-handed sword on to his back. Mendair and Shaiel followed as silently.

Keleth looked up to the sky and offered a prayer to his Gods, then kissed his fingertips, pressed them lightly to his forehead before extending them out to the growing twilight and twinkling stars. Great Father look down upon us who may die this day and shelter us in your hand. Keleth had never been an overly pious man, but when you danced with Death you took any help you could get. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath let it out, opening his pale blue eyes with renewed focus. We will do this thing, We will take the Eye and save the World… or we will die trying. He belted on his own sword, took up the dully shining axe the Seer had given him along with the leather scrip and trotted after the others down the path that led South and West. Down into the Valley and the dead city.