Dream II - Chapter 15 (Patreon)

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Race: Saurian

Bloodline Powers: Improved Strength, Rending, Firebreath
Greater Mysteries: Fire (Noble) 4, Wind (Noble) 2
Lesser Mysteries: Heat 4, Oxygen 4, Embers 4, Pressure 4, Current/Flow 4

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Sam’s backpack landed on his bed with a muffled thump.  A second later, the Saurian joined it, plopping down onto the cushioned cloth and slumping backward.  Above him, the wooden frame of the upper bunk looked the same as ever.

Dussok groaned as he settled into his bed on the other side of the room.  Takkla dropped her pack just inside the door.  She glanced at her bed, the bunk above Dussok’s, and shrugged, slithering into the bottom bed with him instead.

The mattress under Samazzar’s back was soft, but it wasn’t soft enough to completely ease the stress and soreness out of his aching back and legs.  The three of them had taken a circuitous route on their way back from the magma vents, using Takkla’s eyes to avoid any gatherings of humans in an attempt to avoid further run ins with the bandits.

They had gotten lucky the first time.  The raiders had the numbers to overwhelm the three of them, but not the will to sacrifice themselves.  Evidently, that had changed.  The battle site with the knights displayed a level of skill and magic that was too much for the three saurians, even with their recent partial evolutions, to handle on their own.

After about five minutes of silence, Sam rolled to a sitting position, bed creaking underneath him.  Across the room, Dussok bolted upright, startling the dozing Takkla.  Dussok winced slightly, putting a hand to the side of his head and rubbing gently while the other remained planted in the mattress.

“Sorry about that,” Samazzar offered, leaning over to begin rustling through his pack.  “Is it the new tremorsense getting to you?”

“Vereton is almost intolerable,” Dussok replied with a grunt.  “I can feel every footstep in the hallway and every carriage or handcart in the street.  Tuning everything out is almost as much work as trying to sleep through the cacophony.”

Sam reached up, tapping the side of his head as he smiled at the other saurian.

“It’s like my air sense.  It’ll get better with time as you learn to tune out all of the extra bits.  Eventually you’ll be able to narrow your focus down to the point where you are only seeing what you want to see.  Then, once you combine it with your ability to see heat, you’ll be almost unstoppable in the dark.  It’s a great skill if you think about it.”

“I know,” Dussok said irritably, massaging his temples.  “It’ll be useful eventually.  It still isn’t fair.  Takkla’s wings last for just over a minute now.  She can actually fly, and all I get is a blasted migraine.”

“Ugh,” he continued, waving in Sam’s general direction, “and course you can you can breathe fire now.  Not a half-hearted bundle of sparks and ember, proper flames.”

“Darn right I can,” Samazzar replied, grinning proudly.

Takkla shifted on Dussok’s bed, rolling over so her head was resting on the much bigger saurian while she gazed at Sam through sleepy, half lidded eyes.  She blinked once, slowly.

“Weren’t you going to talk to that human?” Takkla asked drowsily.  “I thought that the entire reason for us venturing into the plains was to find evidence of a bandit attack or something.  Shouldn’t you go and talk to your friend about it?”

“Right!” Sam exclaimed, jumping to his feet and slapping a clenched fist into an open palm with a loud ‘thwack.’  “Adam.  I should probably head down to the barracks and let him know what happened.”

He grabbed the lacquered sigils he had cut from the knight's armor out of his pack, clutching the enamel and steel in his hand as he ran outside the shared room.

“Maybe you should wait until it's time to meet up with your human at the bar,” Dussok called out.  “A bunch of the guards hate us.  It’s why Adam usually meets you away from them after all, to avoid conflict.”

“I’ll be fine!” Samazzar shouted back, his mind already racing to what he’d talk about with Adam.  So much had happened in the last week.  Finding the remains of the knight scouting party was the least of his accomplishments.  He couldn’t wait to show the human his new strength and evolved bloodline abilities.

“He’ll be fine,” Takkla giggled in response.  “The little dragon probably just wants to give us some alone time.”

Samazzar nodded to himself as he stuffed the sigils into the pouch he kept at his hip and kept walking toward the knight barracks.  It was only proper that he gave his siblings some time alone.  They had new bloodline abilities to perfect and the last couple of days had been a forced march, leaving them almost no time to work on them.  A couple of hours without his interference to hone their skills together was a splendid idea.

He smiled to himself, shifting the simple beige cotton shirt he was wearing into a slightly more comfortable position.  Sam wasn’t entirely sure why Dussok and Takkla immediately started trying to wrestle the second he left the building, but maybe it had something to do with Dussok’s enhanced powers.  After all, even as Samazzar had grown bigger and more powerful from consuming the flame wyrm essence, Dussok had drawn even more benefit from the eggs.  His sibling barely looked like a saurian due to his size and bulging muscles.

Actually, both of their growth had been a bit of a problem.  Rose had made it clear in no uncertain terms that although it wasn’t illegal for a nonhuman to walk around Vereton in their bare scales, it was considered the mark of a barbarian.  He had substituted the trusty if dubious loincloth that had served him well as a kobold for a leather battle skirt favored by some of the human warriors that specialized in mobility.  It wasn’t as hard as his scales, but at least it was something approaching armor and didn’t feel like a complete waste.

His shirt was a different story.  Intellectually, Samazzar could comprehend what Rose said about clothing as a mark of culture and civilization, but it didn’t seem right.  He was a dragon, and when the sun reflected off of his gleaming ruby scales, it made the world a better place.

Still, it was a concession he could grudgingly make, even if the cheap shirts he spent his parros on made his scales itch.  The humans and elves of the cities might not appreciate his glory yet, and it was annoying to have to buy a new wardrobe after going through an evolution induced growth spurt, but soon.

Soon he’d have a form that no shirt could cover.  A body that would make them stare up in awe and wonder as Samazzar floated through the sky above them, a tyrant of the very air itself.

A lazy smile spread across his face as he approached the regional barracks nearest the Vereton Academy.  The building had a neck high wall of seamless stone, drawn from the ground by a practitioner with complete control over their mystery.  Above it, stretching some fifteen paces into the air, a globe of woven steel bars, each about the size of Sam’s forearm, protected the complex from aerial intrusion or attack.

It gleamed, polished metal swirling in intricate patterns that were more art than fortification.  Like so much else of the city, it existed as more of a statement than anything.  Vereton might not be the largest or the richest empire, a tall order for a city on the border of civilized lands, but it had one of the highest concentrations of practitioners.

Metal, stone, and wood all were expertly crafted and bent by magi.  Any visiting noble or expert couldn’t help but notice the monuments to magic, a silent statement of power.  Vereton might not have the numbers to compete with its larger neighbors, but it certainly had enough magi to make any attempt to conquer them a costly proposition.

He encountered his first obstruction in the form of a guard at the complex’s entrance.  The barracks mostly housed the town guard, ordinary folks that formed the bulk of Vereton’s army.  The veterans and noncommissioned officers were given elixirs and trained their abilities beyond human limits, but the vast majority of the soldiers had to make do with the muscles and reflexes that they were born with.

Sometimes, Samazzar mused as he looked at the man holding a spear horizontally across the entryway, the lack of resources left guardsmen with a bit of a chip on their shoulders.

“You’re not passing without a writ from a commander,” the soldier snarled.  “Come to think of it, you don’t look like you’re from around here.  I’m gonna need to see proof of your citizenship too.”

“I don’t have proof of citizenship because I’m not a citizen,” Sam responded, trying to keep the frustration from his voice as he pulled his enrollment paperwork out of the satchel at his side.  “I’m a student at Vereton Academy.  As I understand it, the Academy is quite famous for not requiring citizenship.  Regardless, I’m here to talk to Lieutenant Adam Joosen of the Knights.  He knows me and sent me on a mission.  If you could grab his attention-”

The man snorted, lowering the spear slightly.  Not out of any deference to the saurian, but because the tip of the weapon had been wavering from the strain of holding it up.

“I’m not going to bother any officer, let alone a knight just because some barbarian in a poorly fitting shirt says they are friends,” the guard said smugly.  “If we just let any rabble in here because they said they knew someone important, we wouldn’t get anything done.”

Samazzar sighed, feeling a headache begin to press down on his skull.  He put a hand to his forehead, massaging the scales just above his eyes as he addressed the self-important guard.

“If Adam is so important that you don’t want to bother him,” Samazzar said slowly, as if lecturing a hatchling, “how much more trouble will you get into once it turns out that we actually are friends, and that I am returning from a field exercise that I was doing as a favor for him?”

The guard sneered back, planting the butt of his spear into the ground and leaning on it.  He moved his head to the side, spitting on the ground in front of Sam before returning his attention to the muscle-bound reptile that loomed over him.

“Lieutenant Joosen wouldn’t need to hire an outsider like you,” the man replied dismissively.  “He has twenty five knights under his command, let alone the town guard units supporting him.  If he needed something done outside of the city, he could have just sent a scout team to look into it.”

Samazzar’s muzzle twitched despite his best efforts.  His blood burned hot in his veins as something deep inside of him snarled at the smaller man.  Dragons were proud creatures, able to dismiss most minor provocations as beneath them, but if someone actually stood in their way-

He exhaled, closing his eyes for a second as images of him attacking the arrogant human played out in his imagination.  It would be so easy.  Even without using fire or his new strength, Sam’s claws could open up the human’s chainmail like it was made of wet, rotting wood.

But, that would be a problem for Adam.  He opened his eyes, jaw clenched.  The man stared back at him, mean-spirited mirth dancing in his eyes as he reveled in Sam’s frustration.  Still, a dragon didn’t cause problems for their friends.

“I’m here because the scout team Adam dispatched was killed,” Sam responded, reaching into his satchel and pulling out the handful of knight insignia.  “I found their bodies amidst a pile of enemies on the plains outside of Redfern-”

“Murderer,” the human guard whispered, his eyes as wide as dinner plates as he stared at the chunks of metal in Sam’s palm.

“What?” Samazzar asked, cocking his head to the side incredulously.

“MURDERER!” The man shouted, thrusting his spear at Sam’s chest.

The guard had clearly trained with the weapon.  He had proper form and the weapon whistled through the air with more force and accuracy than any kobold Sam had fought.

He spun to the side, not moving quickly enough to dodge the weapon completely as it nicked the side of his chest before ricocheting off the saurian’s hardened scales.  The scratch ached, but the sharp blade failed to penetrate, and as the human gaped at him, Samazzar reached out with his left hand, grabbing the haft of the weapon and holding it firm.

The soldier tried to pull his weapon from Sam’s grip as a bell began to ring from inside the metal dome of the barracks. Guards began pouring out of the complex, slipping on chainmail and drawing weapons even as they stared at Samazzar and the guard in bewilderment.

“This thing killed Knight Hossin’s scout team!” The guard shouted, yanking ineffectually at the spear in Samazzar’s hand.  “He had the arrogance to come back here in order to brag about his crimes.  Quick, you need to subdue him!”

Samazzar looked down at his shirt, sighing at the long tear in the cheap cotton.  His scales had turned aside the worst of the attack, but already blood was beginning to seep through and stain the fabric.

“If I were capable of killing a knight, why in the name of the thousand and one mysteries would you attack me?” He asked.  “Honestly, if I was who you are claiming I am, I would be able to kill you before you got a single strike in.”

“He’s got a point, Robbie,” one of the other guards called out.  “Protocol is to retreat and call for help if you encounter a major threat.  I don’t really have any idea who this guy is, but you barely stand even with your shoulder, and it sure looks like your spear belongs to him.  I’m pretty sure that counts as a major threat.”

“But Captain Jamise-” the soldier in front of Sam bristled, only for a familiar voice to cut him off.

“Isn’t here.  Can you explain why you are obstructing Sam?  He’s a guest of mine.”

Adam pushed his way through the crowd of knights and guards.  Despite everything, the plates of his armor gleamed a brilliant silver.  Samazzar wasn’t sure if the armor itself was magical, or if Adam spent hours every day polishing it into a brilliant luster.

Robbie, the guard, sputtered looking back and forth between Sam and the approaching knight lieutenant. Samazzar released the man’s spear, taking a half step backward to give himself some room just in case the desperate man did something foolish.

“Lieutenant,” the man stuttered.  “You said you weren’t to be disturbed.  This person showed up with no notice, so I tried to turn him away to keep you from being bothered.  Plus, you heard Captain Jamise.  He told all of us to be on guard for espionage and sabotage attempts by the demi human barbarians.”

“Sam and I meet for drinks once a week,” Adam replied dryly.  “He’s one of Pothas’ apprentices and a promising young practitioner at the Academy.  If he truly wanted to, he could have turned you into cinders a dozen times by now.”

Robbie gulped, eyes wide as he looked at Samazzar once again.  He smiled at the scared human, exhaling a tongue of flame.  With a touch of will, the fire danced through the air, tracing a hoop around the guard’s neck before it dissipated entirely.

“Stop tormenting my guard and come inside Sam,” Adam said, waving at the rest of the soldiers to disperse.  “He’ll be disciplined for his… overzealous… defense of my free time later.  For now, I’m assuming you have news otherwise you wouldn’t be running to see me right after you made it back into Vereton.”

Samazzar nodded and let the armored human lead him into the compound.  There was a small open air plaza lined with training dummies for weapon practice separating two buildings.   The south wall was almost entirely occupied by living quarters for the soldiers of the guard while the north had a mess hall and a smaller office for the handful of knights assigned to the barracks.

Adam opened the front door to the north building, taking stairs to the upper floor where his office was located.  Samazzar had only been there one other time when the human had forgotten his parros pouch before an eventful night at the tavern.  Everything looked about how he had remembered it.  The warrior kept everything in neat stacks, albeit the pile of paperwork had grown exponentially since Samazzar had last seen it.

He took a seat, watching as Adam made his way around the desk and slumped into his own chair.  Now that they were out of the hustle and bustle of the city streets, the man didn’t seem quite as dazzling.  His armor wasn’t glowing anymore, and Samazzar’s careful perception noted the bags under the man’s eyes and the five o’clock shadow on his chin.

“I don’t suppose you have good news for me?” Adam asked, barely even looking up.  “Captain Jamise has been pushing harder on the story that Hossin and his men deserted.  It’s taken most of  my energy to keep things from spiraling out of control.”

“Sorry,” Sam replied, placing the handful of lacquered sigils on the table.  “I found your men, but I was too late.  They took dozens of bandits with them.  More than that, I suspect that the bandits had practitioners of their own on hand.  I haven’t really spent a lot of time with any knights other than you, but the scene was fairly intense.  Someone managed to flatten the grass in a huge area.  It might have been ordinary fighting, but it looked too even to be anything other than magic to me.”

The human leaned forward, picking up one of the emblems and turning it over in his hand.  He sighed, letting the strip of enamel and metal clink back to the wooden counter of his table.

“That was Hossin’s,” Adam said, what little energy was in his voice before draining out of him.  “You said you confirmed his death?”

“I couldn’t see his face, and I wouldn’t have recognized him if I did,” Samazzar replied, “but I did cut that sigil off of a body that had been dead for about a week, so the timeline matches up.”

Adam slumped back in his chair.  For a moment he simply looked at the pile of colorful metal in the center of his table.

“Hossin was a practitioner,” the knight said, turning his attention back to Sam.  “All of them were.  That’s one of the key differences between the Knights and the Guard.  Knights are given access to elixirs and trained in mysteries that will help our combat potential from the beginning.  The signs of magic you found at the battle-site might have been from him.”

Samazzar furrowed his brow, red scales crinkling as he mulled over Adam’s words.

“All of them were in full armor too,” Sam mused.  “I don’t know how much stronger the rest of the team was, but anything that could take down practitioners in full armor with an elixir strengthening them is bad news.  It almost doesn’t matter if the bandits had practitioners.  They either used hundreds of people in the fight, or the sort of resources that an isolated bandit troupe shouldn’t have.”

“Everyone in Hossin’s team was on their second elixir,” Adam replied grimly.  “Even if they were just fighting as warriors, they moved faster and hit harder than any unenhanced human could.  Not to mention that all of them were skilled with their blades.  This wasn’t a rookie team I sent out there.  Each of them was a veteran.”

“The bandits have a sponsor,” Samazzar said with a frown.  “I can’t think of any other explanation.  There simply isn’t enough trade to the north to justify a force of that size without some sort of outside support.”

“The only question is who it is,” Adam responded.  “Vereton has any number of enemies, but most of them leave us alone.  We serve as a neutral ground for a dozen kingdoms, empires, and merchant republics.  They send their youth to our Academy for training, negotiate their deals in our feast halls, and we risk our lives to collect rare goods and resources from the monster infested wilds.  It’s a deal that has benefited everyone.  Things have been peaceful outside of the occasional border skirmish until recently.”

“Do you have any leads?” Sam asked.  “It’s clear someone is trying to strangle the flow of resources into Vereton.  The only reason to send bandits to the North is to stop the teams looking for magical reagents.  That means someone wants to interfere with the city’s trade and alchemy.  Whichever it is, that’s not a good thing.”

“No,” the knight growled back.  “But you can bet your scales that I’m going to start turning over rocks until I find out.  Someone killed my men, and I’m going to make sure they bleed for that.”

“Wait, what in the name of the fallen gods,” Adam blurted out before Samazzar could say anything in reply.  The human cocked his head to the side, squinting incredulously at the saurian.  “Did you somehow grow taller in the last week?”

Sam barked out a quick laugh, grinning at the perplexed officer as he replied.

“And here I thought you’d never notice.”