Minor updates to the Wiki

I just wanted to let you know that I've added a little bit to the wiki. Just so you don't think I've completely forgotten about updating it.

Chapter 2-3

From then on, Zrathanzon added teaching about the gods to the lessons he taught Almonihah. With that came teachings about the different races of Draezoln, for the two subjects are intimately connected, and in time the lessons extended to cover the nations and geography of their world.

In time, the leaves changed colors, then fell, leaving only the occasional stand of pines for shelter from the rains, and then the snows. Fortunately, Zrathanzon had had the the foresight to purchase some warm clothing for Almonihah. Zrathanzon, however, didn't wear anything more than his usual leather armor.

When Almonihah pointed this out, Zrathanzon countered with a question. “Have you ever heard of a dragon wearing a fur coat?”

“No,” Almonihah responded, carefully not thinking about the only dragon he'd ever actually seen.

“Well, I've got enough dragon blood to not need to. Maybe when you're older, you won't, either.”

The pair continued making their way slowly west, moving from campsite to campsite whenever Zrathanzon decided it was time to move on. In time, as winter was setting in in earnest, Almonihah thought he could see something through the bare branches of the trees to the west.

“Zrathanzon,” he said, pointing, “What's that over there?”

Zrathanzon looked over at where Almonihah was pointing. “Those? Those are the Stormpeaks, that go clear from up here down to Midport.”

“Why are we headed towards them?” Almonihah asked.

“Well, it's been a while since I've gotten out this way,” Zrathanzon responded. “There's some people I want to check up on, maybe even an old friend you could meet.”

“An old friend?”

Zrathanzon chuckled a bit. “Yes, an old friend of mine. A druid. You might learn a few things from him.”

“Oh,” Almonihah said, his voice actually sounding interested.

They continued on their meandering way west. Sometimes, as they were traveling, Zrathanzon would stop, quietly tell Almonihah to stay put, then go ahead. Sometimes nothing would happen, but sometimes, Almonihah would be able to hear the sounds of some beast fighting and dying.

On one occasion, Zrathanzon came back from one of these encounters with a small gash on his leg and a slight limp. Seeing Almonihah's expression of dismay, he insisted that he'd be fine, they would just have to make camp here for the night.

Zrathanzon directed Almonihah in setting up the camp while he started pulling some bandages and herbs out of his pack. After he had everything, he pulled out his waterskin and used a bit of the water to clean his wound.

Zrathanzon spoke, almost to himself, as he cleaned and bandaged his wound. “Monsters are always more aggressive this time of year. Hungrier, because there's less for them to eat. It makes them a lot more dangerous during the winter.” He paused to check his bandage job, then turned to Almonihah and asked, “You've still got that dagger I gave you, right?”

Almonihah nodded. Zrathanzon then continued, “Well, we'd better have you start practicing with it. Never know when you might need it.”

Almonihah practiced while Zrathanzon sat, observed, and gave the occasional compliment, critique, or command. Before long, the shadows started to lengthen. Zrathanzon cooked some of their provisions, then they ate, cleaned up, and went to sleep.

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The next few chapters are probably going to be a lot like this--kind of snapshots of points of Almonihah's youth that were important to him. I can't say it's a style of narrative I feel very proficient with, but given how many things longer than ten pages I've written up to this point, I can't say that's really a surprise.

Chapter 2-2

As the second vine started to wrap around his neck, Almonihah spotted a flash of golden scales and bright steel. A sword whistled through the air, and then he found himself falling, the vine that had been about to choke him brushing painfully past his ears and nose. As he fell to the ground, there were a couple more whistling sounds, followed by woody thunks, and then he was lifted and carried a short distance by Zrathanzon before being set on the ground.

After getting his breath back and his heartbeat under control, Almonihah started to a bit better. Then he wondered if Zrathanzon was going to be mad. After all, this was exactly the sort of thing he'd been trying to teach how him to avoid, and he'd gone and walked right into it. He started to look up at the ranger, then decided he'd rather not meet his eyes and looked down, ashamed.

“Almonihah,” Zrathanzon murmured gently.

Slowly, Almonihah looked up and met Zrathanzon's gaze. He was rather relieved to see that it didn't seem to be an angry gaze.

“I think you've learned your lesson already, right?”

Almonihah nodded.

“Then let's keep going. Just... pay more attention to where you're going, okay? I don't want to get scared like that again.”

After that, Almonihah was a lot more cautious and attentive while they traveled, and even just around the campsite. He was rather surprised, as he looked around, just how many of the dangers Zrathanzon had taught him about were around him. Usually the area around their campsites were fairly clear, though there were exceptions. Whenever they did find something dangerous too close to a campsite, though, Zrathanzon cleared it out.

When Almonihah asked about this, his mentor explained, “We're not the only ones who use these campsites. There's a couple of other rangers and druids in these woods, and then there's the occasional hunter or trapper who ventures this far. I try to leave these sites a bit safer for them, and they generally do the same.”

“Druids?” Almonihah inquired, feeling like he should know the term.

“Priests and priestesses of Naishia,” Zrathanzon responded as he dug up the roots of the blood vine he'd just chopped up.

“Naishia... she's the nature goddess, right?”

Zrathanzon chuckled a bit. “Yes, she is. How much do you know about the Ten?”

Almonihah frowned a bit in thought, then perked up as he figured out what the ranger was talking about. “The Ten Gods, right? A little bit...” His voice trailed off as the thought brought memories of family—painful memories, like anything that reminded him of why he was living here, in the woods, rather than in a home somewhere.

“Their names, at least?”

Almonihah nodded. “Bahamut, Naishia, Mashano, Kazoran, Sephania, Tiamat, Kenash, Kerichang, Arphaxad, and... Jivenesh, right?”

“That's right,” Zrathanzon acknowledged.

Almonihah thought for a bit, then asked, “Do you worship one of the gods, Zrathanzon?”

Zrathanzon was quiet for a moment, then answered, “Bahamut, mostly. I have a lot of respect for Naishia, too, but I wouldn't say I worship her.”

“Why not?” Almonihah asked, every bit the five-or-six year old he was for the moment.

The ranger was thoughtful for a longer moment, then responded, “Bahamut... he's more about defending, protecting people. Keeping them safe from the dangers of evil. Naishia... she cares, too, but she's more about preserving the world, the woods... and I guess I think it's more important to protect people.” He stopped for a moment, then shrugged and continued, “Of course, I try to protect the woods, too, except for things like this,” he gestured at the remains of the blood vine he was collecting to burn as they talked, “but worship's a funny thing. Some people say they worship two gods at once but... I can't. And Bahamut's closer to my heart than Naishia.”

Almonihah was silent as he digested this. After a while, Zrathanzon stopped working for a second to look at him and ask, “Have you thought much about following a god?”

Almonihah seemed to be startled out of his thoughts by the question. He mutely shook his head.

“You need to,” Zrathanzon said, his voice serious. “Most kids would be too young to right now, but most kids aren't half-dragons, either.”

For the first time, Almonihah thought of how differently he thought and looked at the world then he had just a year ago. Most kids don't watch their mother die, either, he thought, but all he said was, “Could you teach me more about them?”

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I was a bit surprised by where this conversation ended up, but I guess it was as good a time to introduce the deities of Draezoln as any. Of course, it's a very brief introduction, but if you want a more in-depth description, you can always go to the wiki.

I guess Almonihah does get some of the way he speaks from Zrathanzon. If you want to see what I mean, just compare how he talks here to the quote from Almonihah at the beginning of the chapter. I'm still waiting to see when he starts chopping off bits of words, though.

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2: Cub

The next morning, Almonihah's training began almost immediately. Zrathanzon started by teaching him how to cook over a campfire, though he did have some extra food ready for when his student dropped his in the fire. Then were some lessons on cleaning and caring for some of the equipment they used. And so it went on for a while that morning.

In time, they came to practicing with the sword again. This time, Zrathanzon stopped before handing him the makeshift practice sword.

“Almonihah, I made a bit of an assumption yesterday. You've been taught to write, correct?” At Almonihah's nod, he continued, “Which hand do you usually write with?”

Almonihah frowned a little bit in thought at the question, then he shrugged diffidently. “Either one.”

Zrathanzon cocked his head, and gave Almonihah an intrigued look. “Either one, hm? Let's see then... take this in your left hand.”

Zrathanzon handed him the practice sword, and Almonihah obediently took it in his left hand. Then they started into the exact same drills they had done the first day. While it took a little while at first for him to get used to switching sides, Almonihah was soon doing the drills just as well with his left hand as he had been with his right. Then Zrathanzon had him switch hands and started teaching him another move, then had him switch back to practice it.

After observing his student's performance, Zrathanzon shook his head and murmured, as much to himself as to Almonihah, “Ambidextrous. Completely ambidextrous, as far as I can tell.” Speaking a bit more loudly he asked, “Did you know you could do this?”

Almonihah stopped the drill he was doing and looked up at Zrathanzon with a faintly confused look. “I thought everyone could,” he said with another shrug.

Zrathanzon laughed a bit. “I suppose it's not the kind of thing that comes up a lot. But no, not very many people can use both hands so well. You're a lucky kid to be able to.”

Almonihah turned away from his teacher and muttered, bitterly, “Yeah, lucky...”

It didn't take long for them to settle into a routine. They arose every morning, ate a simple breakfast, and then Zrathanzon would start Almonihah's lessons. Sometimes the lessons were mostly around the campsite, such as sword drills and even some bow training, but more often they were practical, taught while on the move, hunting or foraging or any of the other activities Zrathanzon engaged in. Every few weeks, they would move to another campsite, though truthfully, Almonihah could hardly tell each one from the last.

The relentless schedule left Almonihah aching and exhausted every night, but he was glad for it. All of the things to do during the day kept him too busy to dwell on the past, and exhaustion meant there were precious few moments lying in bed waiting for sleep in which to ask what had become of his father. If Zrathanzon was surprised by how completely his little student threw himself into his lessons, he didn't show it. Perhaps he knew why Almonihah did it, and thought it was the most he could do to help ease the child's pain.

As the months passed, Almonihah could tell he was getting stronger and more skilled. It seemed, however, that his teacher could tell as well, because his lessons simply became more difficult. Every time he thought he was getting good at something, Zrathanzon would show him that there was still a lot more to learn. And each time, Almonihah would throw himself back into his training, more determined to do better.

The leaves were falling from the trees, and Almonihah had come to feel the forest was his home. Though Zrathanzon still warned of great dangers in the woods, and taught him all he could about how to avoid them, he hadn't seen any sign of them. The only danger he knew was the one that had overtaken his mother, and that was one which he wished to forget.

Then, one evening, he found out one reason why most men avoided the North Forest.

The two were traveling, as they often did, further west. They were taking their time, and Almonihah was amusing himself by practicing some of his sword drills with a stick as they walked. He was so absorbed in doing so that he didn't notice that he had fallen a little behind Zrathanzon, as well as to the side of where he was walking. Nor did he notice the signs that Zrathanzon had taught him to look for.

Suddenly, Almonihah felt something tighten around his ankle, and then he was violently yanked into the air. He cried out in fear. Ahead of him, he heard Zrathanzon bite off a curse in Draconic—something he had never heard his mentor do before. He struggled to get a look at what was holding his boot as he was shaken about in midair, and finally managed to see that it was a thick, brown, hairy vine.

Just as he was reaching to try to loosen the vine's grip on his ankle, he felt another one brush his shoulder, and he remembered what Zrathanzon had told him this vine was. A blood vine, a deadly plant that ambushed its prey, strangled it, and then drained its blood—though it wasn't always picky about finishing strangling its prey before it started on the blood-draining part, from what Zrathanzon had said.

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The start of chapter 2! Huzzah! A bit more of a look at what Almonihah's early training was like--including an... unplanned exercise.

As most of you probably know, I've started in on another semester of college. What this means is that I'll probably be averaging about a post a week. At least, that's my goal. So, you might have to wait all the way until next Saturday to find out what happens.

Beware the cliffhanger!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!

Chapter 1-6

When they returned to the inn, the innkeeper poked his head out of the kitchen door. “Ah, good, you're back! Supper's just about ready to serve,” he called to them.

The pair went up to their room, deposited their purchases, then came back down to the common room just in time to see the innkeeper and his wife bringing some food out to one of the tables. It was fairly simple fare, but to Almonihah, used to living only off of what his family could hunt or grow itself, it was a feast.

Their conversation over supper meandered about, though it mostly focused on the goings on of the town and its surroundings. It seemed to Almonihah that his mentor must know everyone in the community, from the way he knew what to ask about them and the way he laughed at all the innkeeper's jokes about them. Their joking and laughter lasted longer than the food did.

Eventually, Zrathanzon noticed that his little charge was rather fidgety, and said that he was feeling like it was time to go to bed. The innkeeper agreed, and the little group parted. When the two half-dragons reached their room, Almonihah threw himself onto his bed, not quite as exhausted as last night, but still very tired.

Zrathanzon cleared his throat. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

Almonihah looked up at the ranger quizzically. Said ranger gently asked, “Where's Zithrandrak?”

“I put it in the chest when we got here,” Almonihah said, a little confused about why his mentor was asking him.

“And is it still there?”

Almonihah frowned. “Why wouldn't it be?”

Zrathanzon sighed. “You always check on your equipment. If you don't take good care of it, it might not take care of you when you need it to. Besides, that's a valuable sword. The kind that some brave or desperate soul might try to relieve a young warrior of for some quick coin.”

“Oh,” Almonihah responded, beginning to comprehend. He opened the chest at the foot of Zrathanzon's bed, and was relieved to see it was still there. Then he closed the chest and got back in bed.

“Hmm...” Zrathanzon seemed like he was going to say something more, but decided against it and went to bed himself.

As Almonihah lay in bed, waiting for sleep to come, his mental image of a blue dragon came back to mind unbidden. It seemed to be watching him, mocking him. He felt anger welling up within him, mixed in with and intensified by the confusion, the fear, and the pain that had so recently filled his mind whenever he let it drift. Silently, he vowed to hunt it down, to hunt all of its kind down. As he drifted off to sleep, the image and the thoughts became confused with his dreams, until he remembered no more.


Almonihah woke with a start in the morning from some dark, disturbing dream. He remembered blue wings... and his father... and somehow it was him...

“Hungry, Almonihah?” Zrathanzon, who seemed to always be awake before Almonihah, asked as he noticed his little student's eyes open.

Almonihah thought for a bit, then nodded. “Well, I imagine it won't take the innkeeper much longer to get breakfast ready. I'll go ahead down, and you can try on your new stuff and come down when you're ready,” Zrathanzon said cheerfully.

Almonihah nodded again, and the golden-scaled ranger left the room. Almonihah changed into his new leather gear. It seemed a bit big on him, but he remembered Zrathanzon saying something about leaving him some room to grow into. Then he made his way downstairs.

Zrathanzon and the innkeeper were talking just like they had been last night when Almonihah got to the common room, with breakfast already set out on the table. Just as the night before, he sat silently and listened to the two of them talk as all of them ate. He did notice as he listened that he was now dressed very similarly to his mentor. He wondered if there was any significance to that fact.

After breakfast, Zrathanzon said his goodbyes to the innkeeper and the pair made their way back out. They made a few other purchases while they were there—some arrows, a small dagger (“It's more your size right now,” was Zrathanzon's explanation), and various other little pieces of equipment needed for living in the wilds. That afternoon, they left the town and headed back into the North Forest.

After a while, Almonihah realized that they were headed northwest, away from the campsite he was familiar with. Growing a bit concerned, he asked, “Where are we going?”

“A campsite a bit further west,” was Zrathanzon's terse reply.

“But... what if my father's still looking for me? Shouldn't we stay close so he can find me?”

Zrathanzon stopped with a sigh, then turned to address Almonihah. “If your father was looking for you, he would have found us that first day. Which means that he's not. Which probably means that whatever attacked him... is still hunting you.”

Almonihah was stunned by these words. Nothing could have... killed... his father... right? But then, wasn't that what Zrathanzon was saying? What other possible reason could his father have for not looking for him? Again the image of blue wings from his dream fluttered at the edge of his consciousness, but he quickly brushed it away.

Zrathanzon had continued while Almonihah had been lost in thought. “So we're going farther away. Further west, and a bit deeper into the forest.” He paused, then looked Almonihah in the eye. “We're going far enough in that things might get dangerous. You have to watch and listen carefully to what I do. Are you ready?”

The ranger's serious tone had brought Almonihah back out of his reverie. He nodded solemnly, though his mind was still grappling with the idea of the kind of dangers he must be referring to.

The pair made good time that day, but it still took them almost another day after the first to reach the campsite Zrathanzon was referring to. It wasn't much of a campsite at first—just a small clear spot in the trees with a fire ring. In fact, Almonihah realized that it looked an awful lot like what the campsite they'd left had looked after they had packed everything up.

Zrathanzon quickly set to work setting up camp, every now and then directing Almonihah to help in some way. Almonihah was not surprised to see how similar it was to their first campsite by the time they finished.

Zrathanzon looked about the camp when they were done, and nodded in satisfaction. “Should be a good base camp to start your training from,” he said when he was finished inspecting everything.

“Training?” Almonihah repeated, not following Zrathanzon's train of thought.

“You're probably going to be stuck with me for a while—which means I need to teach you to survive in the wilds. Sound like a plan?”

Almonihah was thoughtful for a moment, then nodded his head. “Yes,” he said, determination in his young face and voice.

“Good. We'll start in the morning then.”


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This is the end of Chapter 1. I've debated back and forth a bit over whether or not this really should have been two chapters, but I think it'll stay just one.

I'm going to post my edits to the previous sections right now. I've fixed that awful paragraphing with some of the dialogue, for the most part. I'm not sure there's anything so major you'd want to re-read the old sections, though.