Session #65: The End

[Spus]

Transcript

All I wanted to do was sleep- for a incredibly long time. Regardless of any magicks involved, I was emotionally, physcologically, and physically exhausted. And I still had to build a damn altar…

On top of this, my little sister continued to nag the hell out of me. I was almost too tired to pay attention. She was speaking of my dear departed wife… Who was murdered by Skulryke all those months ago. I buried her a few miles north of Gregorian after we initially fled. I did miss her, but much time had passed. And there was still much work to be done… I read once that the faithful of their gods, which my wife was a strong believer in, Pelor, no less- she often found solace volunteering at the local temples when I was forced to work long hours at the castle, or sent away on long assignments. “…Let her rest in peace. She’s in a better place now.” I didn’t want to be selfish. It would be rude- I would meet her again someday perhaps, but for now, she deserved her eternal peace- and not to be returned and forced to face work that was far from done for myself.

A week has passed since we finally sealed away Skulryke. For the first time in a while, I wasn’t absolutely terrified of sleeping killing me in my sleep. Instead I had other problems. While the threat to the land was taken care of, it was by no means a solution to all of our problems. Jal’Nareth was wracked with debts and morale problems after Jarret’s various screw-ups. Tewk proved highly ineffective- all he managed to do was just prevent burning and get the other countries to stop attacking our men- and to get our men to stop attacking them.

Annoyingly, several of the other Castle staff tried to convince me to take the throne- I would have none of it. Besides not wanting it, there was someone else who could rightfully claim. Besides that, for now, I agreed to help straighten things out, having made good contacts with some very powerful people elsewhere on the continent. For now, I could beat off the threat of monarchy. If only he would return and sever it completely…

As for my staff, which the others entrusted me with, I put it somewhere where no one would ever bother looking. It was close, and fairly well guarded by the powers of Jal’Nareth as a royal treasure. Additionally, anyone going where I put the stave would hurt their brain trying to figure out the very physics of the room. Confusion is as good of a defense as any.

The future is going to be tiresome, but at least it’s safe…

-Victar Derag, Assisstant to the Empty Throne

[Spus]

Grus kept poking at me to wake up. Apparently people have come by and dropped off some wooden contraption. It was from some guy named Khyron telling me to build an altar to these specifications in some secret spot. While I normally don’t listen to papers wrapped on sticks of wood, but the additional line ‘If you don’t do it in 6 months, I hope you like swamp water.’ Made me understand explicitly. I called to Grus for the correct components, and put my mind to thought about the secrecy that was asked of me. Of course, I thought of a place good enough for such a strorage facility- if I can’t find it, no one can.

The constant disturbances ceasing, and my father not returning led me to believe it was truly over. I resumed work on my past projects, and got interesting news from Akanu. Apparently the council for restoring Gnoma to its former glory found something very interesting in their research. When they went to the ruins to study, various tortured spirits no longer attacked them. Not only did this make their research go by much easier, it kind of made it useless altogether- with no reason to further study the cause of unrest of the fallen, they could move onto the next task- reconstruction. I added Gnoma to my railroad plans, along with a route to Gregorian. Such a task would take years, Ricels have strong work ethic- my father worked til the day he became an annoying pest of a ghost, and so shall I.

Other news as time dragged on was the strange formation a villiage to the north- Emissarys from Morbirgan were sent, but they were sent fleeing ussually with arrows in their shoulders. These dwarves, who resemble the old Duergar of yore, regard all outsiders hostiley- almost as if we were the very devils of their culture. For the sake of piece, Kilkralthen has chosen to simply ignore the hostile band of Duergar. For one, for now they seem generally harmless, and are not necessarily great in number- they also do not seem very imperialistic for now- they seem content with their small community.
Peace is good for the researcher who doesn’t necessary like making weapons of war. Even when most don’t necessarily like your weapons of war- I managed to sell a few to some mercenaries from Kasios who stopped by, but that’s the most I got out of these godforsaken firetubes. I came up with a different variety that makes pretty colors, hopefully that will prove more sucessful. People like pretty things, right?

-Edal Ricel, Eccentric Gnomish Genius Inventor

[Spus]

Maxi returned a week after she left. She again took off saying she was looking for some things and that I wouldn’t understand. Mages can be so haughty at times. It didn’t exactly help things that my mother wound up missing either. The day after she heard it was over, she vanished, leaving a notice of her abdication. She didn’t even tell me, her own son. It seems the whole stress of the situation was too much for her- she only could endure it by drinking. I kind of understand the desire, and at her age, maybe being strictly loyal to your obligations starts to mean less. Maybe there’s a point where you can’t take it anymore. Maybe after 50 years of being cooped up, enough stress and death makes you want to get out and see the world. I’d bank on the last one, because I start to feel the same after only twenty…

-Styles, Prince of Aridia

[Spus]

Add your own aftermaths if you please, I may tack on more if I get inspired too.

[demonlei]

"You can't solve all your problems by resurrecting them."

When I was training to serve Pelor, my headmaster used to exhort this... but I don't think I truly understood until now. Adlai, my sister-in-law, and Skulryke's many other victims have found their peace. The time has come to rebuild and heal for the sake of the living.

Every day I pray for a Miracle from Pelor, and every day I apply Pelor's holy grace to bring another Jal'Nareth citizen trapped in stone back to this world, without risk of sudden death from the shock. It is a slow process, but in due time all the Transmuted victims shall be restored. In the meantime, we have assigned guards to watch over the statues, lest malicious vandals destroy them.

I know Zalajin intends to search out and destroy the remaining liches, with the exception of Khyron. But I cannot join him, not yet. In the case of Valdien and Sygnus, perhaps not ever, as I have sworn not to seek them so long as they abstain from evil deeds. I have asked Zalajin to contact me should he gain proof of evil committed by Valdien or Sygnus, or should he need my aid against Granil or Debelge.

Perun seems to have a bizarre idea about founding a new holy order on cursed ground. I think he is insane. I have very respectfully asked him to consider founding it in or near Jal'Nareth instead; but he is a stubborn one...

Gash... well, I promised him I'd pay for his expensive date with one of his nice golden ladyfriends. So I gave him a small amount of money. But I noticed there was little skin on the great golden dragon corpse when Zalajin and I consigned its remains to cleansing flame, so I think Dragonslayer has obtained all the reward he deserves and then some. Perhaps he should rename himself Lich's Bane.

As for the Lady Seonia, the fearsome Elven Destroyer, Skulryke's greatest mortal rival... why do I have the gnawing fear that one day, millennia in the future, she could become as consumed by the urge for Power and Destruction as Skulryke was? She has led us bravely, and selflessly, to victory... well, mostly selflessly...

...and yet, Victar does still have the ring that once belonged to her. I believe I shall request that he keep it safe. Just in case it ever becomes vital to locate the Lady, for good or for ill.

Right now, though, I must turn my attention to the needs of Jal'Nareth. Tewk is doing the best he can, but clearly the task is too great for his shoulders alone. I have volunteered to serve him as advisor, aide, diplomat, priest, any capacity needed to help our nation rise from its ashes. If he steps down, I am willing to accept his duty of Regent, but I would prefer to be subordinate or Co-Regent... I have never been good at being a leader, but rather support, advice, and accepting orders.

Victar tells me that the true heir to the Jal'Nareth throne is out there, somewhere. Very well, let him come forward when he is ready. The Regent, be it Tewk, myself, or some other, will hold the Empty Throne for its rightful King. But we will not repeat the mistakes of the past. No longer will the King have absolute power, so that he or his progeny may lead us to ruin when the bloodline degenerates into madness. It is time for Jal'Nareth's churches, trade guilds, artisan guilds, and people to have a voice as well.

I spoke to Tewk of my plan to set up representatives for a new advisory Council to speak for all these interests, and the people, and work with the regentship - or monarchy, when the King returns - to keep things running in the future. He looked at me as if I were insane. But I doubt he will refuse the plan, as he doesn't seem to have a better one currently. I am most grateful for Victar's help in all this as well; he was always so much better at politics and strategy than I am...

Jal'Nareth is desperate for funds at the moment, but I have amassed some wealth, in the form of my possessions - including Skulryke's Rod of Absorption, which I happened to have in my hands at the moment he was destroyed. I have sold the Rod of Absorption, and I am prepared to sell anything else of mine needed to raise emergency funds.

I have also sent calls to the Churches of Pelor, Bahamut, St. Cuthbert, and other friendly patrons to send missionaries to help bring peace and healing to our stricken lands. I wonder whether Kroitz will be among those who come... probably not, as I doubt he would willingly set foot in Jal'Nareth as long as I remain here.

I don't think I've heard recently from Kiel and Natasha Kenados... they should have been freed along with the other prisoners of war. As we repatriate returning exiles, we will have to keep Jal'Nareth's many soldiers peacefully employed and possibly retrained. Jal'Nareth has been militarily obsessed for far too long, and we cannot neglect our defenses, but neither can we have mass bands of unemployed fighters roving the streets. That would be asking for trouble.

I am also speaking to the Bard Guilds, so that they may spread the stories of all that has happened in ballad and song. The stories as they really happened that is, from Siliskor's imprisonment 4,000 years ago to Skulryke's final doom. As Debelge is part of this history, and ballad, in a way he will ironically obtain a little of the fame he craved.

We have many years of work ahead for us. When the true King of Jal'Nareth returns to assume his rule, I pray that he will be intelligent, competent, and honorable. If he is none of these things, then I pray that he never returns.

- Valletta Derag, Hierophant of Pelor, Servant to the Empty Throne

[drkultra]

From the Ink and Paper of Perun:

"Your arcane power was naught compared to the divine origin of my power"

That was the last thing Skulryke could have possibly heard, other than Seonia's laughter. Looking back on it, it was fitting for Skulryke's end to be humilliating, but I was arrogant before. Veiled by my heritage.

Its been two years since that event, Skulryke end meant a stop to all wars in Orenero and a time of weary peace. After the fight, I myself was given a staff, and I hid it in a place secret enough to anyone, only myself and my father know its location.

When it all ended, I was confused, drained of all energy, exhausted mentally and physically. The constant battling and the tremendous power surge needed for the seal was taxing on mind and body. I felt something snap on me when that happened, Had Zalajin and Valleta not been there to snap me out of the state, something bad might have happened.

I spent the next year with Zalajin and a woman called Dai'l Starshine, an Elven Cleric of Heroineus I met on Uzinia when Zalajin and I were searching for clues on where we could find the remining Liches, we hit it off very fast on town and she decided to accompany us, probably investigating my divine heritage or wanting to destroy the Liches as much as we did.

We had to search far and wide, they hid well. But everyone has a limit when on the run, even the tireless undead. We found them and dealt swiftly with them. They had the divine justice they deserved given to them. A correct application of power was enough to destroy the phylacteries.

After that, Zalajin and I talked again about the Golden Lightning Order. After much insistance from Dai'l and mine, he agreed to the founding of the order's main building in the deadlands, over the seal's building. Giving it an extra protection, to ensure that Skulryke and Siliskor are never released, and if they are, there can be a correct answer to them.

I had collected money from every lich, their possessions once cleansed of evil by Dai'l, fetch a very high price on Kasios. Sharing half the money with Zal for church donations and part of the money with Valletta and Victar, the Derags make a perfect set of advisors, one always cautious and the other one always willing to go for the greater good.

After months, the Order of the Paladins of the Golden Lightning was founded on the lands over the Seal, obsessive warding inside the building and liberal applications of positive energy fields staved off the curse on the building and nearby lands, the place was looking better and better every day. I really hope we have made a difference, any difference.

Zalajin spends most of his time away on holy quests to destroy evil, lucky bastard. Me and Dia'l get stuck back here working on administration, cleansing the land of undead, and making treaties with the temples that will back us up. I truly miss the days of adventuring day in and day out, never knowing where we are going to sleep, sometimes I almost wish Gash, or Seonia would burst through those gates one day and just say "Perun! There is trouble, we need to round up the gang"

*Sigh* I guess this is what happens when one tries to make such a large organization as Im trying for. But hey, as long as it pleases Obad-Hai.

Now I have to go, Illian and Persen are looking for me, I told them I would help them train today.

- Perun, Lord Paladin of the Golden Lightning

[Spus]

Grus, Mad Scientist Assistant- Continues apprenticing under Ricel until his hair is also completely singed off. Granted Journeymanship for this great milestone.

Cpt. Richard Stevens, Captain of the Zagfey Guard- Promoted to Captain and continues to serve under Vincent to bring Uzinia back under sanity. Still hates mages and thinks the world is slightly less shitty with them gone.

Sgt. Robert Gerome, Sargeant of Zagfey Guard- Continues being Stevens’ heterosexual lifemate. Really. Still doesn’t say much. Rumor has it he once spoke again to order a hamburger at a local restaurant because Stevens was in the bathroom.

Maxi Nebow, Aridian ‘Peace Keeping Agent’- Aridian Diplomat to Jal’Nareth. Really. That’s all she does. She’s not spying. I’m serious. Continues to avoid Gash, despite little contact with her supposed husband. Resumed duty after a sabattical to who knows where.

Vincent Lambert , Commander of Uzinian Military- Despite best efforts to throw together another government, he has been installed as a benevolent military dictator of sorts. Still yet uncorrupted by his power, he has set forth with as quick as possible speed to promote peace among the continent.

Maria, Former Queen of Aridia- Whereabouts unknown. Conspiracys abound about the whereabouts of the missing queen, the only evidence of her trails are the bard’s songs of an elderly woman putting most of the men to shame in drinking contests.

Sorely Irvin, Giant Hunter- Has become the one outsider to make a connection with the Duergar in the mountains of Kilkralthen, due to his shared hatred of the giants that they share. However, that’s the end of his diplomacy. They still shoot anyone he tries to bring near them, because they remind them too much of the butchers of their people, according to Sorely.

Oldath Errenster, Elderly Magician- the wear and tear of the last rush of activity finally caught up to the old elf. Upon compling his altar in an undisclosed location, reports say he passed away a few days after returning to Illithian, with a will laid out to pass on his research to Seonia, if she so wants it.

Jesse Kage, Wandering Monk- Spends the majority of time in Zarfmo honing his skills in the arena. Maintains his drunken vow that he doesn’t know why he made in the first place.

Tewk Storm, Confused Regent of Jal’Nareth- Continues just doing what he is told by Victar. He wants this guy Victar’s talking about to come back soon. He isn’t cut out for this monarchy crap. He’s falling behind on his trainign regiment…

Natasha Kenados, Civilian of Adi – Left Military service, and having her fill of political drama. Moved to Adi and took up farming with her savings. Says to be content with this life, and keeps in contact with her brother through monthly mailings.

Kiel Kenados, Retainer of Jal’Nareth - Hating himself for being captured by dwarves because it meant lost hours in defending the city, he put forth double shifts for months, and was key in restoring the Jal’Nareth human guard and military force after Skulryke and Jarret’s follies sent the lot of them to their deaths.

Gotto, Asshole Magic Shopkeeper - Contently living out his days in a small shop in Linopa. Fewer freaks wander in and bother him, and no malnourished nobles come by and stab him anymore.

Ipeta Wolfspirt, Insane Horse Liberating Druid- Continues to be a growing threat to Dakpus’s Horse World. She has expanded her horse stealing operations from Quanor to Linopa. Her recent attempts to free the horses from Zagfey failed and she barely escaped capture from Stevens and Gerome.

Renen, Slayer of Mayors - Still hunting down Seonia for abandoning him all those months ago. He will have his vengeance, oh yes, he shall.

The Monks of the Waist Down Fist – They temporarily called all their members back to reform their policies. They still take contracts to kill very seriously, but they are now a tad pickier about it. The price for another attempt on Seonia Visaa is set at approximately three million gold plus expenses.

Katinzo, Tomb Guard of Ro – Finally managed to bargain for Death Curse Leave. However, he was only left with one week to live at this point. He died only 10 feet from the summit of Kilkralthen Mountain. Death Curses are a bitch. And he doesn’t get to serve for eternity as a guardian of Ro either. Poor Katinzo.

Khyron, High Scholar – Content with the way events played out, he returns to reclusiveness in Quanor. Those who know him believe the best selling fiction novel ‘Return of the Great Wyrm’ is penned by him. It is said to be based on a true story by some, but those some are ussually the same conspiracy theorists who believe Maria was abducted by Troglodytes and made their queen.

Aiko Mamoru, Deranged Kojinese Girl – Upon returning to the far planes, she forgot that she had a party. She found some sticky buns, and met a fine young aberration. They lived happily ever after impregnating eachother with their spawn, which if described too throughly, will make this passage unsuitable for anyone to read, except those who are already blind and have not eaten in two weeks.

[muk1000]

It's been a month since it all went down. Oldath and I teleported back to Illithian, where I promptly returned to my humble abode and basically collapsed on the bed, much to the surprise of the halfling who was still using my house. I let him stay, at first because I was leaving again to hide my staff, but then because I unexpectedly moved out. I did give him a thousand gold pieces, though. Maybe he’ll move away using that. I guess I was just in a good mood, but I don’t really need the money now. In fact, Perun still owes me some gold, although I don’t think I’ll hold him to it.

Oldath passed away right after he came back from hiding his staff. I talked to him a lot before he left. Besides giving him the entire story, I asked why I had gained so much power so fast. He said that our strength often comes from what happens to us, and what we have to go through. Apparently I've gone through more in the past few months than he did in his entire life. After explaining that, he turned me into a platypus, just to show that it didn't necessarily matter if I could cast spells of the Ninth Circle. I did sense a begrudging respect from him, though. I figured he finally accepted that his trouble-making, migraine-inducing student had grown into a powerful wizard. It wasn’t until he passed that I found out how right I was.

I was actually with Oldath when he died. I was perusing his bookcases when he teleported back from wherever he went to hide his staff, and then he just collapsed on the floor. I managed to get him to his bed before he passed on. His last act was to direct me to his will, and tell me he was proud of me. I was slightly taken aback by his sudden kind words, but when I found out he had left his research, house, and just about everything else to me, all I could do was break down and cry. I found a nice grove not far from Illithian and buried him there personally. Many people came to pay their respects, and I commissioned a nice headstone for him. Since then I’ve moved into his home, and I still haven’t looked at everything he was working on. I’m sitting at his desk as I write this, and sitting at his desk was something he never allowed me to do when I was his student. It’s mundane, yes, but that alone makes me feel like I’ve truly become the wizard I always aspired to be.

I've been spending plenty of time with my family, of course. They didn't seem too shocked to see me back, but they were surprised to see all the powerful magical items on me. My brother made the mistake of showing me that he can cast detect magic now. The poor kid was in bed with a splitting headache for the rest of the day. He didn't seem to mind much, though, as the next day he was practically glued to my side, asking questions about every magic item on me, what I'd been doing, and what the rest of the world was like. I didn't tell him a whole lot about the quest to stop Skulryke, but I did tell him what stories I could. I didn't even tell my parents everything that happened. Somehow, I doubt they'd believe me.

Then, of course, there was the business of my staff and altar. It’s safe and secure now, although naturally I’m not going to say where I put it. I did leave a note with it, though, that simply reads, “Remove this staff and face the wrath of the most insane elf bitch ever to live.” I’m not sure how much of that is true, but I figure it might deter someone. Then again, if I was a random adventurer that just found a staff and a threatening note, I’d probably still take the staff, but hopefully no one will ever get that far.

I've begun writing down my experiences, while I can still remember them clearly. Some things I'll never forget, but little details are bound to slip, and I want to make sure I record as much as possible. I can't help but wonder if someday I'll be seen as some sort of legendary hero, but right now I'm happy to be living quietly. Deep down, though, I know that someday I'll fight again. Perhaps next time the stakes won’t be so high. I hope not. I’d like to explore on my own terms.

But for now, I’ve just been spending my free time teleporting here and there, watching the hustle-and-bustle of post-war Orenero. Usually I’ll disguise myself or watch from a distance. A few times I’ve seen Victar and Valletta in Gregorian, trying to keep everything running. Perhaps I’ll talk to them again soon, but I don’t want to bother them. I just like to see how things are coming along. Y’know, before this whole thing started, Victar would have been a dream come true for my prankster self. But now, I just don’t feel like bothering him. Maybe someday. Right now, I think we all deserve some peace.

We certainly earned it.

~ Seonia Viasaa, High Wizard of Illithian

[wardragon]

As dictated by Zalajin Kuro-khan to a scribe of the Golden Lightning Order:

When Skulryke died for the final time, his old bones crushed under my club, I felt a surge of joy and peace through my soul, wiping away all of the chaos and confusion of the past weeks. This was why I knew from childhood that my destiny was on the path of the Paladin, this powerful serenity I felt whenever a great wrong was righted. As I knelt in the dead ground of Abysim, and prayed to Bahamut, I knew that I had fulfilled my duty.

Of course, that is always a fleeting state. Once the new seal was made, and Perun had finished hiding is staff and altar, he and I said our farewells to the others, and set out in search of the remaining liches. Granil was the easiest to run to ground, what with the plagues of undead that spread in his wake. We persuaded Val to help us grind him out, for old times' sake, with a bit of help from her fellow clergy of Pelor. Unfortunately, it seemed neither Sygnus nor Valdien had overtly violated the nonaggression pacts she and Seonia made with them for reasons I still cannot fathom, so it was just the two of us against them; they did not make it easy, but Perun and I were very, very good at killing liches by then. Both of them were defeated, and the Staff of Enchantment was powdered by Perun's hammer, and I ripped the Staff of Evocation to splinters and shards.

Debelge, despite being the least powerful of the former council in purely combative terms, proved by far the most frustrating of the lot. In fact, he's still at large; we killed him six or seven times, but he'd stopped carrying the Staff of Illusion by the time we tracked him down, and thus far, we've been unable to find it. We decided to imprison him instead of trying to dust him every few days, but that didn't pan out either; after the seventh kill, he started carrying scrolls of disintegrate and killing himself when we caught up with him, just to be annoying. Someday, we'll find his phylactery, and that will prove to be his last act of insanity, but for the moment, there are bigger fish to fry, and he's just not worth the effort at this point. Somehow, I have a feeling that being ignored might be an even worse fate for him than oblivion...

At any rate, with Debelge irrelevant, Khyron a non-threat, and the rest of the liches destroyed, we were free to take a more long-term view. I didn't much care for it at first, but the idea of founding our own Paladin order in this blighted world slowly grew on me. I must admit, the name Golden Lightning was appealing; perhaps I'm not as free of my father's vanity as I tell myself, eh? We broke ground on the keep a bit over a year after Skulryke's death, and it is still not complete; even with magic to aid in the construction, a building that size is not raised swiftly, especially with the need to break four millenia of desecration on the ground first. Perun somehow wound up with most of the administrative details, with Dai'l's aid, of course (I swear, is he the only one who doesn't see that she's fallen head over heels for him?). I surprised myself by how much I enjoyed overseeing the training of the young acolytes who came to us from the faiths of all the goodly deities; even one or two from Kojin-ro, if you can believe it. For the first time since I left my wor my home and came to Orenero, I am truly content. I have done more good here in these past two years than I could have in all my life there. I believe....

Ah, Perun, how... What? What do you mean, "we're broke?!" I just brought back half a red dragon's hoard last month, where did it all go? Alright, fine, fine, this time I'll solicit donations, and you can go raiding. Bloody Cuthbert clerics, charging for their help in cleansing a land of taint.... a paladin's work is never done.

[stabs]

Gash sat with a skinny elven archer by the remains of a rather large white dragon, far to the north of Orenaro. The pair were the only survivors of a party of fifteen, and the elf and Gash were chatting as they tried to loot their icy comrade's corpses. The white's breath had snap-frozen half of the troupe before the fight even started...

"I guess it was a couple of years ago now." Gash said, thrusting a pick into an ice-covered corpse to get at the amulet around its neck, "After the lich fell, I headed north a ways. Trying to avoid cities mainly. I passed some time up in Zagfey, hunting down and murdering any remaining dragon cultists I could find. I made a game of it. Every week I'd count how many I got, then the next week I tried to double it."

Gash snapped a few fingers off a frozen dwarf to get at his rings.

"They ran dry eventually. Or they heard I was comin' for em and hightailed it outta there. The point is, I moved on. Kept headin' north. Anyway. It was out on the plains somewhere. Pretty sure I was half looney from that point on account of not havin' eaten fer a few days. So I sees this thing on the horizon. Kinda shiney like. It gets closer. Bloody desert sun, I can barely see a thing.

"Before I knows it, this -thing- closes on me, and BAM!, a slap across the chops and I'm down.

"A fricken silver half dragon. A chick, moreover. I got this yellin' in my ear, 'Murderer!' she hollers. Anyway, I get up, start tryin' to explain. But nup. It's all claw/claw/bite the poor innocent dragonslayer without so much as a fair trial. So I give this bitch a decent backhand with my shield, and the whore grabs hold and starts tearin' the silver scales right offa it. Well I wasn't havin' any of that, so I got out my staff and started clubbbin'.

"So we fought for a while. About eight or nine hours. Hand to Claw, staff to tooth. Just got to the point where neither of us could stand up no more. I was bleedin' hard from the chest, and she was tryin' to get her dislocated shoulder back in, but I managed to tell the story 'bout the Silver Wyrm of Rackshep.

"She took some convincin', but I just told the truth. 'Bout how it was my kids who was the first ones the Wyrm took. So we got to talkin'. She was a decent sort, if a little overzealous. I'll spare you the details, but let's just say by the end of the night we didn't need separate bedrolls."

"Bullshit!" the elf protested as he dragged the boots off a snap-frozen orc.

"Bullshit nothing. We didn't stay together long. Few months or a half a year maybe. But long enough for me to notice her belly gettin' swelled."

"Bullshit!" the elf reiterated.

"Nah. I don't know if it birthed or hatched or whatever happens with quarterdragons. I skipped town one night. But I got a kid, somewhere."

"So what did you do next?" the elf said, sitting down to start dividing up loot.

"I gathered you lot and we came up here."

"Ah."

Gash knelt down by the dead dragon's flank and started cutting off long strips of flesh. Laying them in the snow beside him, he took out a sack of sea-salt. Burying each strip deep in the salt, he stood and hefted the bag over his shoulder.

"Leave that in there about six days, and the meat'll be good for two months, even in summer. Say, did I ever tell you about the time I fed Perun dragonmeat jerky? It was right after we took back Jal'Nareth..."