Meric the Storyman: Rega and the Dragonstones
Chapter 12: The Hoarde of Pyrdon

* Free me, Warrior * Dexir heard inside his head, much stronger this time. All morning he had been hearing it, even while in the cell, but it was not until now that it started getting louder.

The party had been going nonstop since their escape from the Red Dragon orc clan. It had been over an hour since the last indications of pursuit disappeared. They were now hopelessly lost in the caves, though. Some of the passages led deeper into the mountain. These passages were dangerous. Things much more menacing than orcs were eager for their next meal. If the correct passage was followed, it would take you all the way out to the western side of the mountain a few days later. The passage the group followed was not one that led deeper in.

Finally, the group decided to rest. Lobaki and Dexir slumped to the ground. The halflings and Rega leaned against the walls of the passageway they were in. Doman, however, stood guard, facing the direction the party had just come from. He showed no signs of weariness. His release of the orcish nature in him had elated him. His mind was clear and he felt no bonds now, not even weakness.

Doman thought about what had happened. He had not initially planned on this outcome, but once things started it felt like the right thing to do. He knew it all came down to the love from his mother. Her wisdom, her desire, her strength and her compassion is what came through. With the internal battle that raged inside him gone, he felt the power from the earth sustain him. He would be a druid like his mother, and he was proud of that.

After a few minutes, Barg left Lobaki’s shoulder and then chirped a message to the young wizard. Upon hearing it, Lobaki groaned and slumped even more to the ground. Barg then flew off ahead.

“What did he say?” asked Rega.

“He said to beware. The lair of Pyrdon, the organizer for the Red Dragon orc clan, is not too far from here. He is going to check out the situation for us.” answered Lobaki.

“Damn.” said Rega. “I knew our luck wouldn’t hold out.”

About five minutes later, Barg returned to Lobaki to report that the lair was empty. Apparently, Pyrdon had gone to the aid of the orcs when the alarm was sounded. An exit from the caves was attainable by going through his lair. The party would have to move if they wanted to get out.

So, the rest period was over. Doman pulled out a sprig of mistletoe and said a few words. Everyone then moved with renewed strength. Once they were free of the caves, they could relax. In a short time, they were at the lair of Pyrdon.

Everyone stopped and stared in amazement. The cavern was massive, but what caught everyone’s attention was what sat in the center. Never had they seen such a vast amount of treasure in one area. There were swords, shields, daggers, jewels, several pieces of armor, and literally hundreds of thousands of coins, all heaped into one large pile. There were also many human and humanoid skeletons. Barg’s chirping broke everyone out of the trance. Everyone that is, except for Dexir.

On the top of the mound of treasure was a very special sword. This sword was Pyrdon’s prized possession. He had gained it many, many years ago when some foolhardy thief had used it to try and rob him. What held Dexir’s attention was the Sword of the Warrior. It was calling to him excitedly now.

* Yes, Warrior! I am here! FREE ME! *

As the party ran to the opening leading outside, Dexir started climbing the pile of treasure. It was not until he was almost out of the lair when Rega realized that his friend was missing. He turned in time to see Dexir reach the top of the treasure pile. He saw a bright flash as Dexir pulled the Sword free from the scabbard. The Sword had found a new warrior to wield it.

Rega was not the only one who saw the bright flash. Pyrdon was returning to his lair, after severely reprimanding the Red Dragon orc clan leader for the escape, when he noticed it.

Pyrdon had a massive wingspan that supported his massive size. He had a frill that went from his head to his tail, but unlike the silver dragon’s which was beautiful and shiny, his was spikey and a sooty-red in color. As he landed, an odor of sulfur was blown over everyone. A plume of dark smoke trailed from his mouth.

Entering his lair, the dragon saw the man holding the sword.

“My sword,” thought the dragon, “my treasure.”

The Sword, being held captive for all of these years, reacted through Dexir. “You have a price to pay, Wyrm.” said the Sword, through Dexir’s mouth. “You held me here against my wishes for too long, but now I have someone to wield me!”

Hidden from the dragon, Rega watched this, fearful for his friend’s life. He watched Dexir bend down and pick up a dragon scale, and then heard him shout the command “Grow.” Rega then saw Dexir, the Sword, and the dragon scale all begin to grow. They kept on growing until where there once stood a man of six feet tall now stood a giant at eighteen feet tall. The Sword and scale had grown in proportion as well.

Pyrdon answered the challenge by going at the giant man. Using his breath weapon of fire would not only destroy the treasure surrounding the man, but it might also damage the Sword. The dragon’s only choice was to attack with his claws and teeth, both being very formidable.

The dragon slashed with a claw, snapped at the man, and then slashed with the other claw. All he got were two claw nails cut off and a gash in his snout as Dexir parried the attacks.

The Sword, releasing its pent up anger, was getting the better of the battle. After losing three more claw nails and getting a hunk of his tail cut out, Pyrdon, realizing the Sword’s strength, left the lair. The only way he could regain control of the battle would be to use his breath weapon, which meant going out into open territory away from his treasure.

Dexir strode easily down the pile of treasure before changing back to his normal size. He walked up to the party, which was hiding near the opening of the lair.

“Now what?” asked Rega.

“Round two.” answered the Sword through Dexir, before they both vanished in front of the party, scale included.

Rega, leading the party, crept cautiously out of the lair to watch the battle continue.

Pyrdon could sense when the man walked out of his lair, although he could no longer see him. It would not matter. All he had to do was get in the general area of the man when he let loose with his fire. He would sacrifice the Sword to win the battle now. A Sword with this magnitude of power was too dangerous to be kept in his lair. He had been totally caught off guard, because when he had originally gotten the Sword, the man wielding it had used none of these kinds of powers.

The Sword warned Dexir when to hide behind the dragon scale. Dexir felt the intense heat around him, but the scale prevented it from reaching him. Once the blast was over, the Sword had Dexir stand. They became visible once more, but Dexir now felt a surge of power course through his body. The Sword, via Dexir, then yelled, “Is that the best you have, dragon?”

Pyrdon’s temper exploded. “First, those idiotic orcs, now this.” he said as he roared a thunderous roar, which shook the entire area. The red dragon then leapt to the sky and shot skyward.

Rega knew it was time to get out of the lair. He led the party at a run to a grove of trees a little way from the opening. They would still be able to watch what happened between the dragon and their companion, but it would be much safer.

The dragon, reaching a height he wanted, started back down. His anger was at its peak. No person or thing had dared to humiliate him like this before. This man and the Sword would pay for it.

Dexir stood there waiting. Throughout this ordeal he had not been in control. The Sword had been in full control of his body. All he could do was watch the battle as it happened. He now watched the dragon flying downward at an angle, straight at him.

The Sword of the Warrior knew when to act. It had been crafted for these kinds of battles. As the dragon swooped down upon them, he had the man’s body duck down low to the ground, and at the same time to stab upwards, slicing into the soft brown-red underbelly of the beast.

The dragon, knowing that the next hit by the sword could be fatal, finally accepted defeat. He roared one final threat. “I will get you yet, Sword” before returning to his lair to nurse the cut in his belly.

Dexir, finally being released by the Sword, collapsed where he stood. The party went to him, placed the sword into his scabbard, and carried him away from the lair.

As they left, they could still hear Pyrdon’s roars of pain and anger.

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