Chapter 1-5

Sorry this has been a while. I'm currently having to use another computer to access the Internet, so that's been slowing me down a bit.


The pair of half-dragons made their way through the small town. It was clear that Zrathanzon was familiar with the way, and that the people going about their business were familiar with him. Many greeted the two cheerfully, and some expressed thanks to Zrathanzon for one thing or another. Almonihah's expression was one of shock. How had Zrathanzon become so welcome in this town?

Before long they entered a small inn. The innkeeper looked up as they entered, smiled at the sight of Zrathanzon, and boomed in a deep voice, “If it isn't our gold-scaled Ranger! And here I was thinkin' you'd gone and wandered off for good this time!”

Zrathanzon smiled as well. “Do you really think I could leave without stopping by to tell you it's fine for someone else to use that room you always 'happen to have empty' for me?”

The innkeeper laughed. “Oh, I've rented it out a few times while you haven't been here, when one of th' big caravans comes through town.”

“But it's always the last one you rent out, isn't it,” Zrathanzon replied, still grinning. “You don't need to bother, you know. It's not like I'm not used to camping.”

“Oh, sure, you can camp...” the innkeeper trailed off for a second, then continued, his voice a bit more serious, “But after what you did for my brother, it's th' least I could do.”

“Speaking of your brother, how is he?”

The innkeeper guffawed, his belly shaking as some memory tickled his brain. “Oh, you should see him! Sneakin' out of his bed while he thinks his wife isn't watchin' 'im, sayin' he's 'just fine, thank you!' when she catches 'im... You ask me, she prob'ly is fussin' a bit too much over 'im, but after that orc slashed 'im... well, I s'pose you can't be too careful.”

Zrathanzon nodded. “Yes, that was quite a wound he took,” he said, face and voice serious. Then a bit of a grin started to creep back, and he continued, “But I imagine if he's trying to evade his wife, he's most of the way recovered by now.”

“Aye, he's lookin' pretty good now. Have to say, though, it's lucky for 'im that th' scar ain't somewhere most folks 'll be seein' it.” The innkeeper was quiet for a bit, then shrugged and said, “Well, if you want, you can go ahead up to your room. I'll get the wife started on cookin' us up a bit of supper. There ain't another soul in 'ere other than yourself, me, and the wife, so we hadn't been plannin' on cookin' too much.”

“Ah, but there is someone you haven't mentioned here,” Zrathanzon responded.

“Eh?” The innkeeper didn't catch what Zrathanzon was talking about until he nodded at Almonihah. Leaning over the counter, he finally noticed the young half-dragon. “Ah! Sorry, little sir, I didn't see you over th' counter. This a relation of yours, Ranger?”

Zrathanzon laughed, and said, “You have no idea how many people have asked that since we arrived.” Then he shook his head and answered, “No, Almonihah isn't related to me, he's just someone I'm looking after for a while.”

The innkeeper shrugged, then said, “Well, I think I can move another bed into your room for 'im. It'll be a bit big, mind, but I ain't never heard somebody complainin' about havin' too big of a bed.” He laughed a bit at his own joke and said, “Well, if you won't be mindin', sirs, I'll go ahead and tell the wife to cook for more than two tonight,” as he turned to do just that.

“Let's drop our packs off in our room,” Zrathanzon said to his little charge, leading the way up the stairs to the rooms. He went straight to a room at the end of the upstairs hallway, and then went in. It was a simple room, much like any other frontier inn room, with a plain bed—little more than a raised straw pallet—with a chest at the foot of it for any gear a traveler chose to store in the inn. Zrathanzon took off his pack and leaned it against the wall, and motioned for Almonihah to do likewise.

“So why do all the people here like you so much?” Almonihah asked as he set his pack down.

Zrathanzon paused for a bit, then answered, “Well, like the innkeeper said, I helped out his brother when a few stray orcs wandered over to his farm and decided they'd see what they could steal. They gave him a rather nasty slash before my arrows convinced those that were alive to look elsewhere for entertainment, but I was able to stop the bleeding before he lost too much blood.”

When Zrathanzon paused, Almonihah asked, “But what about everyone else?”

Zrathanzon shrugged a bit. “This isn't a very settled area, and the North Forest has worse things in it than feral orcs. The plains aren't exactly safe, either. I can't be here often, but I can often tell when there's going to be trouble and get here in time to help out.” Zrathanzon hesitated for a moment, then continued, “And there are those in town who know metallic scales,” he tapped a claw against the golden scales on his cheek, “generally mean good rather than ill.”

Almonihah was quiet for a bit. He remembered his father telling him about the different kinds of dragons—the noble metallic dragons, like his father, and the evil chromatic dragons.

His father.

His mother. What... what had killed his mother?

“Zrathanzon...” Almonihah fought against the pain even framing the question brought for a moment, then said, his voice a bit choked, “Did you see... what... happened to my mother?”

If Zrathanzon was surprised by the sudden change of subject, he didn't show it. He nodded. “It was a blue dragon. Not too old of one, but... old enough.”

“A blue dragon...” Almonihah pictured something like his father, but with blue scales, in his mind.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and then the innkeeper's voice. “I've got that second bed for you!”

Zrathanzon walked to the door and opened it. The innkeeper stood on the other side with the straw pallet from another bed. “I thought about it for a bit, and it seemed like it'd be awful hard to get the whole bed in 'ere, so I figured this'd do. This okay with you, little sir?”

Almonihah nodded, still unsure of how to act around these friendly townspeople. The innkeeper entered the room and placed the pallet on the ground. After a little bit of rearrangement, he nodded in satisfaction and said, “There you go, little sir. All set up.” Straightening, he said, “Supper'll be ready in a bit,” then went back out the door.

“It will be longer than just 'a bit',” Zrathanzon said with a bit of a grin after the innkeeper was out of earshot. “We should have time to do an errand or two before he has anything ready for us to eat.”

With that, the pair left the inn and went further into the town. The inn was just off of the main road, which was surprisingly wide for a small town like this, though in rather poor repair and deeply rutted by wagon wheels.

“This road is the only reason this village is here,” Zrathanzon explained. “It connects the east and the west coasts. In the east they call it the Spice Way, and the westerners call it the Tea Road. Around here, though, folks just call it the Gold Road, because the only gold coins anyone ever sees around here come from the caravans.”

They went along the main road to a small shop with a crude sign that seemed to represent some kind of footwear. Almonihah glanced down at his feet, remembering complaining to his mother just a few days ago that his claws were starting to poke holes in the ends of his shoes again. He quickly looked back up and blinked away the tears that began to come at the memory.

When they entered the shop, it was clear that, while the shopkeeper might specialize in footwear, he also sold a number of other items of apparel. The shopkeeper looked up as the half-dragons walked in.

“Ah, Zrathanzon! Good to see you're still around these parts.” He looked a bit closer at Almonihah. “Bronze scales, not gold, I see. For a second I was wondering if you'd gone and found yourself a lady,” the shopkeeper said with a wink at Zrathanzon.

Zrathanzon laughed, but there seemed to be a subtle undercurrent to his laugh that Almonihah hadn't caught in his others. “That'd be the day!” he said.

The shopkeeper grinned a bit wider, then suddenly sobered, all business. “So what do you need today?”

Zrathanzon nodded at Almonihah. “He needs something a bit tougher than what he's wearing right now,” he replied.

The shopkeeper nodded. “So, some boots, probably some leather leggings and such?”

Zrathanzon nodded, and the shopkeeper disappeared into a back room for a moment, before returning with a small, sturdy-looking pair of boots. “Let's try these first.”

After trying several different pairs of boots, as well as holding up some leather clothing to himself, they walked out with a couple changes of tough clothing and a pair of boots for Almonihah, and some scraps of leather that the shopkeeper apparently kept specifically for Zrathanzon's visits. He said they were for repairs, and looking closely, Almonihah could tell that his mentor's gear was, indeed, patched in several places. He had also gotten a rather sizable piece of leather that he said he would use to make a scabbard for Zithrandrak.


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Zrathanzon has been a lot more fun to get to know than I anticipated. I had no clue he had such a sense of humor. It's probably a good thing, though, given how humorless A.Z. is. Just wait until you see what kind of trouble THAT gets him into, though!

If this seems a bit slow to you right now... well, it is a bit slow. I'm trying to establish the setting and the characters really well right now, and I may be spending just a bit TOO much space on it. I'm enjoying writing it, but I think I will try to speed things up just a bit, now that I've gotten my toes wet on some real narration instead of speed-narration like with the first section.

By the way, as of this post, I'm pretty sure "The Chainer's Legacy" is the longest thing I've ever written. Well, there may be ONE paper I've written so far for school that was longer, but it won't take long to fix that.

I've gone back and done some more editing on the older posts, but I think I'll wait until I have a better internet connection to upload the edits.