The Home of Fang Ch. 3

         “Clear the way! Message for Lord Nalot! Clear for the master’s messenger! Clear the way, you dull witted swine!”
The western halls of Ironwyrm Keep echoed with the cries of the young messenger as he darted around the various groupings of inhabitants, insulting servants and nobles alike. The shrill screaming came from one of the smallest creatures that could be found in the Ironwyrm Clan’s lands. It was a chrysalis dragon, so named because the eggs, laid in a manner that allowed them to stick to the underside of the branches of the flamesap trees to keep warm, looked very much like butterfly cocoons. While the tiny young dragons would easily quadruple in size over the course of their lives, four times the size of a butterfly is still exceptionally small. In a clan that boasted more than a dozen different species of various shapes and sizes of creatures all loyal to one master, they were definitely on the lower end of the scale.
         Their size didn’t stop them from having a range of attitudes, many of which favored the more aggressive persuasion. Nalot, the self-appointed master of Ironwyrm, made a point of taking advantage of their attitude, size and speed by using chrysalis dragons as scouts, messengers, spies and any other duty he felt they would best serve his agenda.
         “I bring a message for Lord Nalot! Out of my way you base minded animals!”
A second, equally high pitched shout cried out on the eastern side of the Keep from another chrysalis dragon, this one a female, searching for their master. As if they’d been cut from the same cloth, there was no less haste in her movements as with her male counterpart, and no less determination to complete her task of finding Nalot.
         Both of the dragons’ insults were answered by teeth, paws, claws, fists and clubs all lashing out at the tiny draconic creatures. Never once did a single strike connect with its intended victim, however. The little dragons were simply too fast and too agile to allow themselves to be struck by such slow attacks. They zipped, weaved and dodged every strike, never losing focus on their assigned duties.
         It was no secret where they would have to look to find Nalot. This time of day, he was always in the same place in the Keep. It was also no secret that when the war council was convening the punishment for interruption was far more severe than anyone dared risk.
         “Clear the way, you slobbering dogs!” The scream rang out at the western end of the hallway from the council chamber.
         “Out of my way, cankerous wretches!” The eastern end echoed at the same time.
         The hallway where the council chamber sat was completely void of activity. None within the halls of Ironwyrm Keep dared to take a chance at making noise in that hall during a council meeting. To save their own hides, they made it a point to find alternate routes, regardless of how far out of the way they would have to travel to do so. Even the guards assigned to that hallway had been granted special permission to take posts at either end during these meetings, purely to avoid the chance of interruption.
         The two messengers seemed utterly oblivious to the lack of a population within the hall. Each of them continued to cry out as they flew down the hall. Each of their voices came out at such a volume that it blocked out any other sound to their own hearing. As a result, neither of the little dragons heard the warnings of the other. Their evenly matched aggression and determination came to a head when each tried to be the first to reach the doors to the council chamber. Despite the excess room there was in the hall, the two chrysalis dragons slammed into each other at full force. The resounding smacking sound of two light little dragon bodies colliding with one another echoed through the hall nearly as loudly as their shouts had done a moment before.
         As one might anticipate, the pair was silenced for a moment as they regained their respective composures. All too soon, though, they were at it, again. Only this time, their verbal assaults were directed specifically to each other.
         “You empty headed sloth!” The female was the first to snap at the other. “You’ll roast for interrupting a message to Lord Nalot!”
The little male didn’t hesitate for so much as an instant. “You can take your meaningless message and run back to your den, you sickly old crow! I bring a message which the master needs to hear!”
         “If your message carried half the weight of mine, your spindly frame would break under its pressure!”
         The bickering would have, likely, continued into a pint-sized brawl between the two messengers. Would have, that is, if the huge stone doors of the council chamber hadn’t, at that exact moment, been thrown open so violently they would have flattened the two verbal combatants against the wall if they hadn’t been in the middle of the corridor.
         Neither of the two little dragons made another sound when they looked over and saw the looming shadow of the mystic wolf known as Deur. The metallic gray canine stood over nine feet tall at the shoulders. His mane, which was capable of changing length, shape and density according to his will, bristled into spear-like spines behind his neck.
         “You insolent little vermin!” The voice that boomed out of the mouth of the wolf was a terrifying mixture of a growl and a roar. “What reason do you have for causing such noise during a meeting of the war council?!”
         Deur began to pad toward the two of them, and they answered in tandem. “I have an urgent message for Lord Nalot!” Each of them whipped their heads over and gave a fierce glare toward the other, but with the council meeting already being interrupted, and the clan’s Spy Chief staring them down, they knew better than to open their mouths, again.
         Though it’s not true all the time, as a general rule, mystic wolves are capable of some rather astonishing acts of aggression. As mystic wolves go, Deur was particularly vicious. He enjoyed ripping his prey apart before eating it, whether it was alive or not. That was, to some extent, the thought going through his head at the time. But another voice from inside the council chamber stopped him.
“I would hear their messages, Spy Chief Deur. Bring them here.”
         The huge wolf let out a low growl as he stared down at the two miniscule creatures before him. His mane twisted and reshaped to form two long strands that each resembled a lasso. The two dragons were picked up and brought along for a terrifying ride as the mystic wolf turned around and padded back through the doorway of the council chamber.
         The monstrous sized room had been constructed with the thought of housing multiple delegations of the largest beings in existence. The gargantuan scale of the room dwarfed even someone of Deur’s size. In fact, the only creature in the room who looked as if they were meant to be there was Kyorix. The Chief General of Nalot’s armies was a behemoth dragon, and as such, a member of the biggest race of dragons that were still known to be alive at the time. Some of the oldest, and consequently the biggest, behemoth dragons were sometimes mistaken for mountain dragons. Of course the last known mountain dragon had died nearly a century beforehand. Still, the extreme difference in size between Kyorix and the two chrysalis dragons was beyond staggering.
         Deur moved in front of the large circular jeweled table that sat in the center of the room. Again, it was far oversized for the majority of the creatures gathered around it. Not only were their bodies much smaller than what the table was capable of holding, but there were only six of them, as opposed to the large number for which the room and table had been planned.
         The mystic wolf stopped in front of the table and dropped his hold on the two offenders. They immediately scurried to all fours and bowed their heads low in front of Nalot and the war council.
         “You may rise.” Nalot’s voice was smooth.
         Both chrysalis dragons lifted their little bodies off the floor as one, and they looked upon the council in terror. This terror was amplified when they heard the sound of the stone doors sliding closed behind them. Deur had shut them in. There was no other way out of the council chamber. It lay at the heart of Ironwyrm Keep, several floors below ground level. It was meant as not only a meeting place, but as the deepest shelter and final layer of defense should they be overrun.
         Nalot stood from his place at the table. As a half giant, he was an imposing figure even without the position he held within the clan to make him more threatening. If that weren’t bad enough, it was well known that he carried with him several arcane relics that granted him power far greater than any other half giant. His polished golden armor glistened in the light of the mirrored torches that lined the walls. It was especially easy to notice this effect due to the contrast of light and dark it created in the room. After all, the dark stone walls reflected light with about the same efficiency as a pile of charcoal.
         He clasped his hands behind his back as he began to walk around the table. “So you both say you carry a message. Strange that two messengers are required to carry one message, wouldn’t you agree?”
         “We bring different messages, Lord Nalot.” Only the male had the boldness needed to respond in such a manner.
         “Different messages you say?” Nalot completed his trip around the table and now leaned back on it as he crossed his arms while standing in front of the two messengers. “That strikes me as more than a coincidence. Very well, then.” He stared at the female. “Deliver your message. And be quick about it. After all, we have a war to fight.”
         The dragoness bowed, again, before responding. “Yes, Lord Nalot. As you know, the erudite masters have been working as you directed, to decipher the ancient prophecies. In spite of their most feverish efforts, they had reached a standstill for some time now. Earlier today, one of the scholars had a vision that he says clarified a word he’d been working on. When that word was translated, the rest of the prophecy it belonged to was completed with such ease that it seemed almost to translate itself. It contains a warning.”
         “Well hurry up, then, whelp! What’s the prophecy say?” Nalot was not known for being patient.
         The little messenger continued. “It says, ‘When the divide is closed, the one who began its sealing shall also begin the destruction of the clan of the crimson victory.”
         Nalot’s eyes, along with those of all the other creatures in the room, went wide as they all lifted their heads. Above the stone table, hanging from the ceiling, was the only decorative display in the room. There hung the clan banner, a large piece of burnt yellow cloth embroidered with a dark red symbol. It was this symbol that alarmed the war council. It had been taken from an ancient, nearly dead language, and everyone in the room knew precisely what it meant when translated to their modern language. “Victory.”
         Silence sat heavy in the air for a moment, but Nalot soon shook his head and glared at the bringer of such seemingly terrible news.
         “Then your life is forfeit!” The half-giant raged. “This is very much the same wording as several other prophecies. All the scholars agree that the closing of the divide that’s mentioned refers to the continents of Peorinth and Girabal eventually moving together until they connect. At their current progression, that event is still another five centuries away. Spy Chief Deur! Take this foolish little…”
         “Uhhm, pardon me, Lord Nalot.” The male chrysalis dragon cleared his throat nervously, and spoke in a timid, wavering little voice while he risked interrupting the creature he feared the most. “I believe the message I bring will shed some additional light on this matter.”
         The rage in Nalot’s face was visible as he slowly shifted his gaze over to the quivering form of the other messenger. None that did not have the privilege of sitting around the council table with him carried the right to interrupt him. Still, one did not manage to hold his position by acting purely out of irrational emotion. He checked his instinct and responded to the frightened dragon in a growling tone.
“Speak.”
         “Yes, Lord Nalot. My report comes from the northern front of the campaigns. Three overseers from different locations all reported to the War Minister. An unidentified source of energy has leveled the Barrier Mountains on both sides of the Peorabal Channel. There is now a land bridge connecting the two continents. It measures fifteen hareks wide at its narrowest point.”
         A general murmur of concern rose from the gathered council members. The Barrier Mountains were given that name for a reason. They were absolutely massive. The amount of power necessary to destroy both halves of the range at the same time was far beyond anything they had even attempted to create for themselves.
         Nalot, however, seemed less interested in what caused their destruction, and more interested in the result, at least at first. “Fifteen hareks, you say? A land bridge of that size could carry several legions of ground troops. Perhaps this prophecy refers to an attack from our neighbors to the north. Which direction did this ‘unidentified energy’ come from?”
         “From the east, Lord Nalot.” The male chrysalis dragon was beginning to feel as if his message had carried enough weight that it would save his hide.
         Nalot’s tone carried a high level of certainty. “Then the eastern nations have allied with the Girabal brutes. They mean to destroy us.” Nalot considered the prophecy. “Do you have any other information? Do we know the identity of the one who caused these mountains to fall?”
         The little messenger shook his head. “No, Lord Nalot. The only additional information we have is that the beam was comprised of at least three different types of energy, all converging together.”
         Nalot nodded. “Very well, then. The two of you have provided me with some highly valuable information. You may leave.”
         Each of the two little dragons breathed a quiet sigh of relief, bowed and headed for the doors. They got close enough for Deur to move to open the giant stone slabs before that same voice of the clan’s master called back at them, again.
         “Oh yes, there is one more thing.”
         They stopped, and turned, trembling once again.
         “There is the matter of causing a disturbance in the hall of the council chamber during a meeting of the war council. We cannot, very well, leave such an act unpunished. There would soon be dissention. Chief General Kyorix, you’re a dragon, and as my second in command I trust your judgment. How well would these two perform on the battlefield?”
         The behemoth looked the two chrysalis dragons over briefly before answering. “They would be unable to inflict much damage in a single attack, but their speed and agility would serve well to allow for multiple small ones. I imagine they would do rather well for their size.”
         Nalot nodded. “I see. And what if they were unable to fly? Then how well would they perform?”
         Kyorix shook his head. “I would be surprised if they lasted through one wave of an attack.”
         “Well that settles it then, doesn’t it?”
         Nalot looked especially pleased, and he motioned to Deur. In an instant the two little dragons were pinned against the stone wall, and Nalot was speaking to them, again.
         “I would ask your names to make the charge official. But, let’s face it. They don’t matter anymore. So, for the sake of expediency, I, Nalot, master of Ironwyrm Clan, sentence the two interlopers to serve out one month on the battle lines of the western campaigns as punishment for disrupting a meeting of the war council.”
         He nodded to Deur, and the mystic wolf manipulated his mane to grab hold of each pairs of tiny wings. The crack of their wing bones was fairly loud, but the screeching cries of pain from both victims drowned it out right away.
         Deur threw open the doors, again, and called for a guard. A centaur trotted down the hallway and saluted when he reached the Spy Chief. Deur told him what was to happen with the dragons, and handed them over. The centaur guard quickly saluted, again, took the dragons, and galloped back up the hall, fully aware he was about to deliver these two pathetic looking creatures to their ultimate doom.
         Everyone returned to their regular places around the table, and Nalot addressed the council.
         “This new information adds a good degree of difficulty to our present situation. Whether this prophecy is to be believed or not is not up for discussion. I will not take any chances. Spy Chief Deur, I want information. Find out the source of whoever or whatever it was that took down those mountains.”
         Deur was quick to abide. “Of course, Lord Nalot, but it could take as long as a month with so little to go off.”
         “At a minimum I want name, location and any information you can obtain on how they were able to create something so powerful. You have ten days.”
         Deur bowed his head. “As you command, Lord Nalot.”
         “Excellent. Chief General Kyorix, I need troops. We must be prepared for an attack from Girabal, and we need a force ready to deploy when Deur’s spies collect the necessary information. We need to be prepared for any contingency on either front.”
         The gigantic dragon nodded his head in submission. “My purpose is to serve, Lord Nalot, but to amass two large forces while fighting a war on multiple fronts is a lot to ask.”
         The immense difficulty of his assigned task wasn’t what concerned him. He’d made some of the most unrealistic expectations become reality before. His worry was expressing the difficulty of the situation to his master without being turned into a banquet for the entire clan.
         “It will require me to use some rather…unpopular methods of recruitment. Morale will take a hit.”
         “Do I look like I’m concerned about morale at this point, Kyorix?!”
         “No, Lord Nalot.”
         “Then get me my armies! This meeting is over!”
         All the members of the council saluted, and then left the council chamber.
         The doors were closed behind the last of the council members to leave, which put Nalot in the room alone. The instant the doors closed he unfastened his breast plate, grabbed the pendant he’d been wearing beneath his shirt and ripped it off his neck to throw it on the table, screaming in pain. The piece of jewelry shimmered, wavering between several different colors of light.
         “You can’t announce your presence any other way?” Nalot breathed heavily and braced himself against the edge of the table.
         “The pain you feel from my arrival is nothing compared to what the prophecy will hold for you.” A wispy, ghost-like voice echoed off the walls in the room.
         Nalot didn’t even bother asking how the newcomer had gotten into the room. He knew. “I don’t have time for your games. What do you want?”
         “Simply to remind you of the prophecy. He is coming.” With that, the mysterious visitor was gone, and the pendant stopped glowing.
         Nalot was left to ponder what all had happened, and how he was going to deal with it. He knew one thing without question. If the visit he’d just had was even remotely like any of the other times he’d seen the one who controlled that pendant, he was about to take part in a world changing event.