Chapter 11-1

Chapter 11: Captive

Almonihah was walking across a clearing a couple of days later when he noticed something large flying towards him. As he looked more closely at it, he could make out the silhouette of a dragon. He waited tensely as it approached until he could make out the color of its scales. Copper. Almonihah relaxed a bit. It was a metallic dragon, so it probably wasn't hostile. Then he thought back to his ruminations on the mountain and snorted in amusement. Maybe he would get an opportunity to find out about a dragon's lifestyle sooner than he had thought.

He stood in the clearing as the dragon flew down and made a gentle landing a few yards from him. She—he could tell now that the dragon was female—was a middle-sized adult copper dragon, probably two or three hundred years old. She looked to be about forty feet long from nose to the tip of her tail. She looked at him down her snout.

Well, what have we here? Her voice was pleasant, even when speaking Draconic, and not as loud as one would expect from a creature of her size. A half-bronze, if I'm not mistaken?

Almonihah opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a coughing fit. How long had it been since he had last spoken out loud? After he recovered, he responded with a simple Draconic, Yes.

The dragon seemed amused. Such a lot of effort to say so little, wasn't it, little half-dragon? She moved her head down to be more on his level, the scales on her sinuous neck glinting in the sunlight as she moved. I hope you don't have that much trouble every time you talk.

Almonihah did not appreciate the amusement in her voice. Not usually, he growled.

Oh, my. You are a grumpy one, aren't you? She lifted her head a little bit, a grin playing across her lips. I know just what you need. Have you heard the one about the bar?

Almonihah grunted noncommittally, but inwardly he was incredulous. Was this dragon honestly going to start telling him jokes?

The dragon didn't seem to care about her audience's lack of enthusiasm. This is a good one. It will cheer you right up! It only works in Common though. Then she said in Common, “So, two men walked into a bar... and the dwarf walked under.”

Almonihah simply stood, his arms folded. The copper dragon waited expectantly for a few moments, then sighed.

I see. Tough audience. Well, I know one that would make a rock laugh. Have you...

I am sorry, but I have to go now, Almonihah said, struggling to be polite to her. His former curiosity about dragon lifestyles had completely evaporated. There was no way he was going to sit here and listen to her tell jokes, even if she was several times his size.

Almonihah started to walk away until the dragon slammed her claws down on the ground in front of him. I insist! she growled as her head followed her claw to get uncomfortably close to the half-dragon's face. He could smell the acrid scent of acid on her breath. Apparently she was rather serious about her jokes.

After a few moments, the copper dragon relaxed and pulled her claw and head back to a more comfortable distance. I trust you understand me now. Now then, where was I? Oh yes, I was about to tell the one about the dwarf and the pickle barrel...

The sun was low on the horizon when the dragon finally stretched and said, I don't believe I've ever had such a touch audience.

Almonihah was still standing with his arms crossed. He'd shifted around some to keep his legs from falling to sleep, but he hadn't moved far. He wasn't taking any chances with those claws. Of course, neither had he laughed at any of her jokes.

It is getting rather late, isn't it? The dragon said, then continued without waiting for an answer, I guess there's only time for one more. You wouldn't happen to know Great Eagle, would you?

No, Almonihah replied.

Hm... it only makes sense in Great Eagle. Well, I guess there's nothing else to do but take you back to my lair and teach you Great Eagle.

“What?” Almonihah was so surprised that he switched back to the Common Tongue without even thinking about it. “I am not...”

I insist. The dragon's tone was still pleasant, but Almonihah remembered how she had acted the last time she had said those words. He had a feeling he didn't have much choice about this.

The dragon looked him up and down. It's a pity you weren't born with wings.

Almonihah suppressed a flinch at those words. If she only knew how many times he'd wished he had...

I guess I'll just have to carry you back myself. Hold still.

Almonihah froze as she reached for him with one clawed foot. Gently, she closed her claws around him and picked him up off the ground. Then she leaped into the air with a powerful downbeat of her wings and started flying northwest.

Almonihah found that being carried was a much less comfortable way to fly than riding. Not only was the dragon's firm grip on him rather uncomfortable, he could also see just how far from the ground they were getting. While he didn't think himself a coward, seeing that much empty air below him with nothing but a dragon's claw to hold him up made him a bit nervous. At least he couldn't sweat.

Well, since you're going to be my guest, I suppose I should tell you my name, the dragon said, her voice carrying clearly despite the wind whipping by. I am Galindakherithan. And what is your name, half-bronze?

“Almonihah,” the Ranger called back, almost yelling to make sure he was heard.

Almonihah, Galindakherithan repeated, her voice thoughtful. An odd name... it's not from the Common Tongue, nor is it Draconic...and it's definitely not Elven or Dwarven... maybe it's Ancient Draconic?

There was an expectant pause. After a while, Almonihah guessed she was waiting for him to say something.

I... don't know, he admitted.

What, your father never told you?

He died first. Almonihah's response was as much growl as yell.

Galindakherithan was silent for a while. Eventually she changed the subject. So just what brought a young half-dragon like yourself to be wandering about in my territory?

I am a Ranger, Almonihah replied.

After waiting a bit for him to elaborate, the dragon asked, Aren't Rangers usually down by the Madlands?

I'm not, was Almonihah's reply.

Well, I could tell that. Galindakherithan's was rather sarcastic. After a moment's pause, to give the half-dragon an opportunity to explain himself, the copper dragon said, So, in other words, you wander around other people's territories.

Almonihah snorted, but didn't say anything. He felt as much as saw her shake her head.

You half-dragon types... she said, then chuckled herself. As if I would know. I must admit that you're the first one I've met.

Almonihah grunted. I am not surprised by that, he said.

There are not that many of you, are there? Galindakherithan asked, though the question seemed rhetorical. As if to confirm the impression, she spoke again before he had a chance to respond. Here we are!

Almonihah looked ahead. They were nearing a cliff face on one of the mountains of the Stormpeaks. As he looked closer, he did indeed see a large opening in the cliff, though it was partially screened by trees that came up to just before the cave mouth. Galindakherithan slowed as she approached it, then came down gently to a landing in the small clearing in front of the cave mouth.

Now then, you know better than to try to run when I put you down, right?

Almonihah hated the patronizing tone in the dragon's voice, so he responded in Common. “Yeah.”

Galindakherithan set her half-dragon 'guest' down. After waiting for a couple of seconds to make sure he didn't decide to try running despite her warning, she started walking towards the cave opening.

Come along then, Almonihah.

Almonihah grunted and followed her.

Galindakherithan's lair seemed to consist of a series of interconnected caverns. The first, where they entered, was wide, but fairly shallow, with a narrower tunnel in the back leading deeper into the lair. Despite the smaller size of the tunnel, the copper dragon fit in it with plenty of room to spare—which she might well need in a few centuries, if she continued living in this lair.

They next passed through a large cavern with a high ceiling. Galindakherithan took a rather winding path through it.

Just some things here to discourage unwanted guests while I'm out hunting, the dragon said over her shoulder as she turned yet again to go across the chamber instead of towards the opening in the back that Almonihah could dimly see.

The next cavern looked to be the one the dragon used to sleep in. There was a shallow depression on one side of the chamber which looked to be rather scratched up that Almonihah suspected was the copper dragon's nest. He was not surprised to see that her hoard was not here. Zrathanzon had said that the legends about dragons sleeping on their gold were false.

Don't even try to go down there, Galindakherithan said, pointing towards another tunnel opening in the right side of the cavern that was a few feet above the floor. Then she pointed at another, smaller opening in the other side of the cavern. Down there is where you'll be staying. Let me show you to your room.

She started walking towards the opening on all fours, with Almonihah following. After a little while, the tunnel began to narrow quickly.

The copper dragon waved Almonihah on. I'll be along in just a moment, half-dragon.

With another acknowledging grunt, the Ranger passed his hostess and walked further down the tunnel. He heard Galindakherithan mutter something behind him, turned his head to look at her, but saw only a tall human woman in a silvery-colored dress.

Almonihah seemed unsurprised. “Thought you could do that,” he said, then turned back and continued onwards.

You really are no fun, the woman said in Draconic, with a bit of a playful pout in her voice.

“Be a lot more convincing 'f you didn't speak in Draconic,” Almonihah replied.

“Human is such a dull language,” the shape-changed dragon said airily in Common. “Draconic really has much more power to it.”

Almonihah's only response was a snort.

The tunnel dead-ended in an unusually smooth, flat wall with a door in it. There was another door in the wall of the tunnel on either side, also in suspiciously flat walls. Almonihah noted that they didn't look to have been worked with tools, which led him to conclude that someone—probably Galindakherithan—had used magic to shape the surrounding stone and then installed doors in the resulting walls.

Galindakherithan walked around Almonihah and pointed at the door in the left wall. This will be your room, she said, speaking in Draconic again, then indicated the other two doors. The middle door is my studio, and the right one is my library. You should know that both of those doors have traps on them—another little deterrent for unwanted guests. I would suggest that you not touch either of them.

Almonihah nodded in understanding. Once the human-shape dragon was satisfied he understood, she opened the door to his room and walked in, motioning for the half-dragon to follow. The room was fairly large, with a wardrobe, a large bed, and various other furnishings. All of the walls were straight and flat, like something that had been built by men, but with none of the tool marks that would usually accompany such work.

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Yes, Almonihah was just taken prisoner by a dragon because he wouldn't laugh at her jokes. Dragons can be funny creatures sometimes... but Almonihah doesn't think this is funny.

Note how Almonihah's speech is different in Draconic. Draconic doesn't lend itself to the kinds of contractions and dropped syllables (or words) that Almonihah is fond of in the Common Tongue.

Chapter 10-1

Chapter 10: Solitude

Almonihah made good time as he headed back north. He slowed down a bit when he hit the jungle, however. Zrathanzon hadn't had enough time to properly train him on all the dangers of the area, so Almonihah was making sure to be extra cautious as he traveled.

He did manage to avoid any major incidents in the jungle, though he did have a couple of close calls with monsters prowling the area. Once he reached the other side of the Lost Sea and started ascending, he noticed a definite chill in the air. Fall was coming to a close, and winter would soon begin in earnest. It was not a good time to attempt the pass.

He scouted around the area just above the jungle for a good winter campsite. He found a place where a stream made its way down into the valley, headed towards the Lost Sea. After checking around, he confirmed that no large predators had been in the area for the last while, so he set up camp.

He had developed a marked preference for sleeping without a tent, but he set one up in anticipation of the snows. He supposed he could have made his camp a little bit lower in the valley, where the snows never reached, but despite the time he had spent in various other climates, he still felt most comfortable in forests. The jungle was full of wonders, but he knew it also had dangers he might not be aware of. He was much more familiar with the dangers of the forests.

The winter passed fairly uneventfully. While Almonihah did have a few brushes with dangerous creatures, and even had to kill a winged, leonine creature (he later learned they were called manticores), his skill kept him from serious harm. Zrathanzon had, indeed, taught him well.

He ranged wider as spring started to thaw the mountainsides, venturing into the jungle and the surrounding forests. He had hardly sat still during the winter, but it felt good to just wander around, observing the plants and creatures that called the Valley of the Lost Sea home. He found them better company than most men he had known—excluding, perhaps, the Rangers.

Once he was reasonably certain he wouldn't be caught in a blizzard, Almonihah headed for the pass. While it was bitingly cold at the level of the cave, the half-bronze dragon could handle the temperature much better than he had as a child. He was soon through and going down the other side.

Spring was already turning to summer in the great central plain as Almonihah descended from the Dragon's Teeth Range. The Ranger could see small figures moving on the plains as he descended—the great herds of the plains, and the Plainsmen who hunted them. These he made sure to avoid. Zrathanzon had said that, while friendly folk, they had some strange ideas about half-dragons. Almonihah had never bothered to ask what kind of strange ideas they were, since he'd gotten the impression they weren't the lethal kind of strange ideas. Still, he didn't feel like bothering with people, so he made sure to avoid them, his keen eyes easily spotting them on the plains long before they saw him.

It was truly summer by the time Almonihah reached the North Forest. It felt good to step back into the familiar shadows of the trees. While it had been something like two decades since Almonihah had lived in a house, he felt on coming into the shade of the forest that he was coming home.

Then he noticed he'd stepped in under a blood vine.

He quickly dodged its first attempt to ensnare him, a swift slice from his longsword chopping the vine in two. He quickly looked for the root of the vine, and, finding it, ran over and hacked at the base of the vine. After a couple of chops, the vines overhead quit moving. Inspecting his work, Almonihah nodded in satisfaction and continued on into the forest.

Almonihah meandered about in the forest until the middle of fall, his wanderings carrying him generally east. He enjoyed the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the forest, and the difference between the immature abilities of his past and his present skill in avoiding the hazards of the North Forest. As the leaves began to fall from the trees, he began to think of his travels in the area with Zrathanzon, and of how there had been a certain point beyond which they had never gone further east. Why was that? What was there?

Was it where his mother had died?

Despite the pain the thought still brought, Almonihah decided he needed to look at the place with older eyes. What he was looking for, he wasn't sure, but something drove him to look.

He found the place when the first snows started to fall. It must have been complete luck—he had no memory of how to get to the place, and the North Forest was vast. The forest was already well into the process of reclaiming the area his father had cleared, and the cabin where he had lived was hardly recognizable. Only the symbol of Bahamut etched on the remains of the stone that had formed the base of their fireplace told him it was the right place. The logs that had once formed the cabin were scattered and rotting. Before long, nothing recognizable would be left of them.

Almonihah poked around the area for a long time, careful not to damage the young trees growing in the area. It was after the sun had set that he finally left and set up camp. He still didn't know what he had been searching for, but he knew he hadn't found it. Whatever it was, it wasn't here.

He headed generally north and west as the snows deepened. Despite the cold and snow, Almonihah still traveled, some restless urge impelling him to move. It was on the day of a true blizzard, in which even he didn't dare move, that he finally realized what made him even more restless than normal.

He had no purpose. He had sworn in to the Ranger Order, and he meant what he had said, but he couldn't sit and wait for Javni'Tolkhrah to come to him, and he was still too mistrustful of human company to stray close enough to human settlements to protect them in more than just a general sense. The wilds called to him, yet they provided no purpose, no meaning for life, just... life.

He wrestled with this feeling of purposelessness for the entire winter, and spring found him still meandering aimlessly west with no true reason to be anywhere. He tangled with some of the beasts of the forest a couple of times, and the thrill of adrenaline and the hunt banished the feeling of meaninglessness for a time, but it always returned. In time he began to seek out monsters to fight, justifying it to himself by saying he was keeping them from attacking the human villages to the south, despite the fact that he knew they rarely strayed so far from their lairs.

After one particularly close call while fighting a pantheron (an unusually large panther-like cat with a leonine mane), Almonihah finally admitted what he was doing. He was acting like the creatures he most despised, those who hunted for the pleasure of the kill rather than to live. And in a way, he was risking his life precisely because he had no reason to live. He looked to the south, thinking of the other Rangers risking their lives for something that had meaning so many miles away. Perhaps, in the coming year, he would go back, and join the Line, at least until he found what he truly wanted to live for.

Until then, he decided he'd like to climb a mountain again. He and Zrathanzon had climbed a few mountains before for the sake of training, and something about the focus and concentration the activity required appealed to him.

Having a destination and a goal sped his feet and lifted his spirits as he headed west. He reached the Stormpeaks in the middle of the summer, in the month of Kazrati. He found a peak that looked difficult, but not impossible, to climb, and began his ascent.

The effort and the mountain air seemed to clear his mind. It was a difficult ascent, as he had hoped for, and doing it alone made it all the more dangerous. There were a couple of times when he was hanging with his claws jammed in a crevice to keep from falling that he was sure he was an idiot for trying to do this alone, but the truth was, the danger just made the challenge more satisfying.

He did, in time, make it to the peak of the mountain. While it was not so high that it still had snow on it in this, the warmest time of summer, the air was chill and clear. Standing on the peak, he could see for miles to the east, though higher peaks blocked his view to the west. The view stirred the old memories of flight in him, both those on Varack'Nara and those he was sure were from his dragon ancestors.

He spent a couple of days there, thinking and simply enjoying the view. The memories of flight made him think on dragons. They lived for longer than any of the Races of Men, even elves. He wondered what purpose they had for their long lives. As he thought, he realized that the only dragon he had ever really known was his father. While Almonihah had met a couple of dragons during the course of his travels with Zrathanzon, and they had even killed a red and a blue dragon that had been raiding human settlements, he hadn't really had a conversation with a dragon since his parents had died.

He was still thinking of dragons as he descended from the mountain. As he neared the bottom, a thought struck him. He was half-dragon, but he had in all honesty lived his whole life mostly as a human would. A human who was a Ranger, certainly, but a human nonetheless. Shouldn't he be more somewhere halfway in between how a dragon and a human lived? But how did dragons really live?

Almonihah snorted in amusement at his own thoughts. He knew intellectually how dragons lived, just as he knew the habits of the various animals and monsters of the wildernesses of Draezoln, but that wasn't really what he needed. Without the knowledge of what a dragon's life was truly like, this train of thought didn't really help him.

As he left the mountain and headed back into the woods, he felt more at peace than he had a few weeks ago, even though he still didn't feel like he had a purpose for his life. He was looking for a purpose, and perhaps that would be enough of a purpose for now.

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This chapter ended up being much more introspective on Almonihah's part than I had anticipated. I guess it's a side I don't see of him much since he has to be completely alone for extended periods to come out, or something. Regardless, it does help me make some sense of him.

Chapter 9-2

Almonihah spent the rest of that day maintaining his equipment and doing his weapons drills. Zrathanzon returned just as the sun was touching the mountaintops. He smiled upon seeing his former pupil.

“So shall I call you Ranger, now, Almonihah?”

Almonihah nodded.

Zrathanzon smiled a bit more broadly. “I guess I'd better get ready for the party tonight, then,” he said, as he strode over and clapped a hand on the younger half-dragon's shoulder. After a moment, he removed it, his smile smoothing out as he asked, “So, are you planning to go to the Line, or back north?”

“North,” Almonihah replied. “Don't think I could stay put.”

Zrathanzon chuckled. “No, you're certainly not the type to stand on a line and wait for something. I, on the other hand...” his expression sobered again, and he sighed a bit, “think it's time I watched the Line for a while. It's been a century or so, and I don't really feel like going back north for a while.”

Almonihah's gaze was a bit suspicious. He had noted that, ever since... things had happened, Zrathanzon had avoided the North Forest. He wondered if the same thing that kept him from his old route contributed to his desire to stay down at the Line, where the Rangers watched for he Javni'Tolkhrah coming out of the Madlands, and did what they could to keep innocent animals from wandering in to the cursed area.

“Well, I suppose I'll introduce you to a few of the other Rangers here, if you'd like. You'll be seeing them plenty tonight,” Zrathanzon offered.

Almonihah nodded. It wasn't as if he had much else to do.

Zrathanzon introduced him to the handful of other Rangers who manned the Northern Order Headquarters. There was the blacksmith, a heavily built dwarf with a deep, powerful voice named Hrothan, the fletcher, a nimble-fingered elf called Ffalwen who seemed nearly as old as Imlloen, and the quartermaster, a middle-aged female human by the name of Kina. There were also a few other Rangers who stayed in the general area of the Headquarters for the dual purposes of guard duty and messenger services. One of them was the Lieutenant that had shadowed Almonihah, whose name he now learned was Carda.

“There are also a few druids who maintain a shrine to Naishia nearby, and there's usually a Ranger mage here, too,” Zrathanzon explained. “The druids usually don't participate in these little gatherings, though, and the mage had to teleport some reinforcements to the west, so he's not around right now. He's the one that Imlloen uses to contact Rangers when he needs to.”

A few other Rangers trickled in as the sun disappeared behind the mountains to the west. Apparently, those who watched the part of the Line nearest the headquarters often returned to camp by the cabins. When they heard that a new Ranger had been accepted, they quickly began helping with preparations for the evening's celebrations.

The celebration was a simple affair, consisting mostly of a large meal around a bonfire accompanied by tales of Rangers gone before. One in particular caught Almonihah's attention. It concerned Falloen Surebow, an elven Ranger from long ago, the only man ever to cross the Madlands. Apparently doing so had not been his only adventure, but the feat was widely acknowledged among the Rangers as his greatest.

“He became the third Ranger Commander, after he finally gave up his wandering ways,” Commander Imlloen explained when Almonihah inquired about him. “His knowledge of the Madlands was a great asset to the Rangers, and it is said that breakthroughs by Madness-Touched were so rare during his time as Commander that they were nearly forgotten by all but the Rangers.”

Almonihah accepted the explanation with a nod. It sounded a little bit exaggerated, like most tales of former times were, but something about Falloen seemed to ring true to the half-dragon. Perhaps it was the wanderlust he was said to have possessed. Almonihah never enjoyed staying too long in one place.

The celebration continued for a while, but not as late as many parties in civilized lands often would. The Rangers knew they would have to get back to their duties in the morning, and none would suggest that those with night duty extend their watch too far into the day. Almonihah made camp with the other Rangers by the side of one of the cabins, and fell asleep with the speed typical of an experienced traveler.

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If I'd had this finished when I posted the first part of chapter 9, I would have just posted it with it, since this piece was pretty short. Not a whole lot else to say about it.

Chapter 9-1

Chapter 9: Test

Almonihah left the small cluster of cabins, heading roughly south-south-west. Once he was a little ways away, he found a likely tree and nimbly climbed up it. Getting as high as he dared, he could just barely see the tops of the mountains well enough to make out the landmarks he needed. Gauging the position of the sun, he gazed in the direction he needed to go, identified a few land features he could double-check his course with, and climbed back down.

He repeated the process several times over the next several hours as he traveled, making small course corrections each time. He reached what he was fairly certain was the spot he was supposed to be as evening fell and started to look for a good campsite. It only took him a moment to find a spot in a small ravine next to a creek. That found, he strung his bow and went hunting.

He returned to his campsite a little while later with a smallish buck, quickly and efficiently cleaning and preparing it. He would cook enough to eat for today and then do enough to preserve some for the next couple of days. He wasn't equipped to make real jerky, but he could make something that would last for a week or so, especially since his draconic digestion could handle food that would make a normal human ill. After completing his preparations, he went to bed.

He rolled out of his bedroll before he was fully awake, his hand already pulling his longsword out of its scabbard when he opened his eyes. It was still dark, and he wasn't quite sure what had awakened him.

There it was again! A soft sound, just at the edge of his perception. He whirled, eyes straining, and just barely caught sight of an arm slipping back behind a tree. It took Almonihah a moment to think through the probable meaning of the sighting. Probably it was a Ranger observer, watching him during his test. It made sense that there would be one. Apparently he had underestimated the acuity of Almonihah's hearing... and how lightly he slept. Now fairly certain that there was no danger, he went back to his bedroll and slept again.

The next day passed without much incident. Almonihah scouted around the general area he was in, finding some roots and berries to supplement the meat he had. He detected the Ranger observer a couple more times during the day, watching him from concealed locations. For a moment, he considered acknowledging the Ranger's presence, but decided against it. If he wanted to remain unseen, Almonihah would keep pretending he hadn't seen him.

The second night, Almonihah woke again, awakened by a sound nearby. He quickly and quietly got out of his bedroll, searching for the source of the noise. This time he could tell it wasn't a Ranger. Whatever it was, it sounded BIG. The half-bronze dragon quickly rolled up his bedroll and secured it to his pack, then climbed a nearby tree. He was stringing his bow when he saw what had awakened him.

It lumbered into view on all fours, at least as high at the shoulder as Almonihah was tall. Almonihah froze. It was a giant bear. He had known about the existence of giant animals, had even seen a giant hawk once, but this was certainly much bigger than the hawk had been. He watched as it rooted about below the tree in which he hid. The half-dragon didn't think it wise to alert the bear to his presence. The thing looked like it could knock over the tree he was in with a single swat of its paw.

After a while, it moved along, but Almonihah wasn't about to get down, just in case it came back. He fell asleep securely wedged in the branches of the tree.

He was a bit sore when he woke up, but dragon scale was tougher than tree bark, so he wasn't bad off for his night in the tree. He dropped lightly to the ground, listening and looking for more signs of the bear. All he saw were its hours-old tracks. He figured out which way it had went and walked in the other direction.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, as did the next night. Almonihah was considering again whether or not he should tell his Ranger shadow he knew he was there when the half-dragon heard another big creature crashing through the underbrush. Again Almonihah took to the trees, stringing his bow as he listened to its noisy progress. Whatever it was, it was moving fast, and didn't care much what it stepped on as it did so.

His bow strung, Almonihah shifted his position in the branches to one from which he could easily fire an arrow or drop to the ground, depending on his needs. Then he waited for the creature to show itself. He didn't have to wait long.

When the creature came into view, he knew immediately that it wasn't natural. It looked like a giant leopard in general body shape and coloration, but two crab-like pincers grew asymmetrically from its back, one on each side, and its tail ended in a rather nasty looking stinger. Almonihah knew immediately that it was Javni'Tolkhrah, a Madness-Touched, as they were called in the Common Tongue, a once normal animal that had strayed into the Madlands and been warped by the chaotic powers of Jivenesh. As Almonihah looked more closely, he saw that the monster was wounded, bleeding from a pair of gashes on its side, and that it had blood on its claws, fangs, and pincers.

It started to charge past him, and Almonihah knew there was no time left for thinking and analyzing. He nocked an arrow and fired at the base of the creature's neck as it ran past him. The arrow struck, but a little to the side of its spine and throat. The Javni'Tolkhrah roared in pain and whirled, looking for the source of the attack. Almonihah nocked and fired another arrow as it looked around, this one sinking into its shoulder. It roared again, and then started charging back towards him. Almonihah had just enough time to put another arrow to his string before it leaped at him. He fired the arrow as he jumped off the branch and to the side. The arrow bounced off the monster's pincers as it sailed over the branch on which Almonihah had been shortly before.

The half-bronze dragon threw his bow to the side as the Javni'Tolkhrah landed, drawing his two swords, a plain longsword in his right hand, Zithrandrak in his left. The monster turned again, growling as it looked at its foe. Almonihah matched its growl with one of his own, frost collecting on Zithrandrak's enchanted blade as the Javni'Tolkhrah tensed to spring.

It leaped at Almonihah again. Almonihah started to jump to the side, then, reacting on instinct, suddenly dove to the other side. The Javni'Tolkhrah disappeared, mid-jump, then appeared right where Almonihah would have been had he continued in the first direction he dodged. The monster roared as it saw that its foe had escaped it, then roared again as Almonihah stabbed its flank with Zithrandrak. The magical cold of the rapier bit the creature even as Zithrandrak exited the wound it had made.

The leopard-like monster landed heavily, turning towards the half-dragon with a growl as it prepared for another spring. Then another arrow thudded into its side, piercing its lung. Its growl turned into a cough, and the beast stumbled, but it shook its head as if to deny death and whirled to look for this new threat.

Almonihah turned his head to look as well, and saw another Ranger. The Ranger was a female human, wearing the typical tough, worn leather of a Ranger, though Almonihah could see a hint of chain mail sticking out from under one of her sleeves. Almonihah guessed that she was the observer that had been shadowing him. She loosed her arrow, but the monster moved one of its pincers to block it, and the arrow bounced off harmlessly.

Almonihah saw an opening as it prepared to spring at the Ranger. He darted forward, swords apart to attack from two angles at once. The monster saw him move just fast enough to snap at him with the pincer on that side. It grazed his right arm, pinching off a small piece of flesh and scale. Ignoring the pain, the half-bronze dragon plunged Zithrandrak deep into the Javni'Tolkhrah, piercing its heart.

The beast was dead, but it refused to recognize the fact. Its pincer snapped again, and its stinger flashed. Almonihah dodged them both, though he had to leave Zithrandrak buried in its side to do so. The monster lurched towards him, lifting a forepaw to slash at him, before finally collapsing, the blood leaking from its mortal wound freezing from the magical cold of Almonihah's rapier.

Almonihah watched the dead Javni'Tolkhrah warily for a moment before striding forwards and retrieving Zithrandrak. Then he turned to the Ranger.

“Thought I was supposed to kill the thing myself,” he growled.

“That thing has already killed another Ranger,” the woman snapped. “It was deemed too dangerous for a Candidate to handle.”

Almonihah snorted. “Had the thing before you shot.” He paused for a moment, then added, a bit grudgingly, “But thanks.”

The Ranger glared at him for a little while, then whirled and started stomping back towards the Ranger Headquarters. “Well, your test's over. Come on.”

Almonihah retrieved his bow, then followed her in silence for a while. Finally, he had to ask, “I pass?”

The female Ranger didn't even turn to look at him. “That's for the Commander to decide.”

They hiked in silence for the remainder of the trip back to the Ranger Headquarters. The female Ranger preceded Almonihah into the Commander's cabin.

Commander Imlloen stood up as the two entered. He looked at the woman. “How has the Candidate performed, Lieutenant?”

The female Ranger paused for a moment before responding. “The Candidate has shown competence in finding his way through the wilderness. He arrived at his assigned post with no difficulty, and remained there for several days living off of the land. He successfully coped with the dangers of the land.” She glanced at Almonihah and then added, “He also noticed me watching him several times.”

The Ranger Commander nodded. After a moment of silence, he asked, “And the Madness-Touched?”

The Ranger glanced at Almonihah again before responding. “The Madness-Touched the Candidate slew had already slain a Ranger before reaching the Candidate. When the Candidate engaged him, I intervened, thinking the challenge too great for a lone Candidate.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “I fired only two arrows. The Candidate did the rest. I find him more than capable of being a Ranger, Commander.”

Commander Imlloen nodded again, his eyes on Almonihah. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Dismissed.”

The female Ranger left the cabin, closing the door behind her. There was a long moment of silence as Imlloen looked at Almonihah, his steely blue eyes seeming to bore into the half-dragon's sea-green ones. Finally, the Commander sat back down in his chair, then motioned at the only other chair in the cabin.

“Bring that chair over here, Candidate, and have a seat.”

Almonihah complied. Once he was sitting, Commander Imlloen continued.

“I knew the Ranger who was slain by the Madness-Touched you killed. He was a good man, experienced, competent, and well-equipped. That you were able to slay it with so little help says a lot about your ability.” The Ranger Commander put his elbows on the table, steepleing his fingers, and continued, “I won't lie to you, Almonihah. We need men like you, and we need them badly. If you and the Lieutenant hadn't been there, that Madness-Touched could very well have escaped to the north, and who knows what havoc it would have wrought then?

“I can guess. We don't have enough Rangers to keep all of the Madness-Touched in the Madlands. I've seen what they do when they get through. It isn't pretty.” Commander Imlloen paused, his gaze still fixed on Almonihah. “But I have a feeling you don't want to help us hold the Line. You've lived with Zrathanzon, and it's been longer than most humans live since he's been on the Line.”

The Commander sat back up, folding his arms, but his gaze never left Almonihah. “We can use Rangers like Zrathanzon, too. Not only do people in the wilder parts of the world need someone like him to look out for them, sometimes a Ranger who's not on the line can help with those Madness-Touched who do get through. But I have to make sure that the Rangers who aren't on the Line really are Rangers.”

Imlloen leaned forwards, putting the palms of his hands on the table. His gaze seemed even more intense. “So I have to ask you, Almonihah. Why is it that you want to become a Ranger?”

There was a long moment of silence. Zrathanzon had mentioned that this question might come up, but now, under the intense gaze of the Ranger Commander, all of Almonihah's reasons that he had thought of before blew away like smoke. Yes, they contributed, but their contribution was small compared to the true core of his reasoning.

Finally, Almonihah spoke, his voice even harsher than normal, but his speech was clear. “I've lost my family. Twice. Both times, it was the wilderness that took me in afterwards. The wilderness where I learned to keep living. The wilderness took care of me. I want to do what I can for it now.” He paused for a long moment, then said, his gaze as intense as Imlloen's, his voice almost a growl, “And I don't want another kid to watch his mother get killed by a monster out in the woods.”

There was silence in the cabin for a long time. Then Imlloen nodded in his swift, decisive way and sat back in his chair normally.

“Ranger Candidate Almonihah,” he intoned, his voice falling into the practiced cadences they had when he had presented the test, “You have done all things that are required of you to become a Ranger, save one. You must swear the Ranger's Oath. Do you now swear to devote your life to the defense of the natural order from the power of Jivenesh?”

Almonihah's voice was firm and sure. “ Yes.”

“Do you swear to defend it from all else that may threaten it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you swear to do these things even should they require your death?”

“Yes.”

“Do you swear to defend those who may be harmed by things unnatural, even should your life be endangered in so doing?”

“Yes.”

Imlloen's tone of voice changed slightly, as if what he was now saying was not as practiced as the rest. “Lastly, you must know that the natural world and the Races of Men often come into conflict. If you become, as I suspect you will, a wandering Ranger, you will often be called upon to moderate these conflicts. This will be one of your most difficult duties. You must seek to make peace between the Races of Men and the wilderness as best you can. How you may best do this is something that only you can determine, but you must remember your other duties as you make these decisions. Do you swear to do this, to the best of your ability?”

“Yes.”

Imlloen stood. “Then I declare you, Almonihah, a Ranger of the Northern Ranger Order. So long as you keep your oaths, I or my successor will be your Commander, save when you are upon the Southern Continent. So that I may call you when we are in great need, I now require a small item from your body, be it hair...” Imlloen paused, looking at Almonihah's hairless, scaled head, realizing that the words he had said so many times didn't quite work in this instance.

Almonihah reached into a small pouch hanging from his belt and withdrew a piece of bronze scale. Zrathanzon had mentioned this, as well, so when a piece of one of his scales had broken off while they were traveling, he had saved it for this purpose.

“This do?” he asked, holding the fragment of scale out.

Commander Imlloen looked at the fragment for a moment, then took it. “Yes, that will be sufficient, Ranger.” He put the scale on his table and turned his attention back to Almonihah. “Now, Ranger, I must determine your initial deployment. I have several places I could use you on the Line, but if you desire to go north and watch the wilds away from the Madlands, you may.”

Almonihah was silent for a moment before saying, “I'll go north.”

Imlloen sighed. “I thought you would. Very well then, Ranger, you may travel where you wish. Know this, however. I may call to you with magic wherever you are. When I call, you must answer. I will only call in the most dire of circumstances, but when I do, you must come. Beyond that, I ask only that you report to me from time to time on what you have seen.”

Almonihah nodded, then said, “Bit more frequently than every twenty years?”

Commander Imlloen laughed. “I would prefer that, yes.” Then he sobered. “You may leave whenever you wish. However, I believe Zrathanzon would like to see you again before you left, and it is... something of a tradition among Rangers to have a small celebration the night of a new Ranger's acceptance into our Order.”

Almonihah nodded again. “All right.”

***************

So, Almonihah is now officially a Ranger! Huzzah! Not that there was ever any doubt.

I think I should explain a bit why I made such a big leap between chapter 7 and chapter 8. First of all, most of the stuff that happened in that decade or so that was there was either boring or not important, and second of all, Almonihah doesn't really want to talk about what was important during that time.

Almonihah's evolution from the child of chapter 7 to the semi-adult of chapter 8 was really a slow, quiet process, one that he didn't really realize was going on himself. I felt it would be more interesting to present him as essentially a new character and then allow you, the reader, to reconstruct how he got from where he was to where he is over the next several chapters, especially since he isn't quite sure himself what happened. Despite what he thinks he knows.

Chapter 8-1

Chapter 8: Ranger

Almonihah's boot splashed in one of the many puddles in the pass. He froze, his senses straining to detect anything whose attention might have been drawn to him by his indiscretion. He didn't detect anything, but he didn't relax quite yet.

Zrathanzon came up by his side. The Ranger was just barely taller than his pupil, now. He said nothing, only nodded approvingly of the half-bronze dragon's caution... though he would have to talk to him about having made the noise in the first place.

The Pass of Storms was living up to its name. All throughout their ascent, it had been raining steadily, and now that they had reached the top of the pass, they could hear thunder. Almonihah took it all in with pleasure, feeling the wild power of the storm building, but allowed no sign of his pleasure to touch his expression.

Zrathanzon didn't like the storm as much. “Some of us wouldn't appreciate being struck by lightning,” he said, humor tinging his voice, as Almonihah's pause lingered just a bit longer than he thought it should.

The younger half-dragon grunted in acknowledgement and started moving again, choosing his footing just a bit more carefully to avoid a repeat of the incident. Having just spent most of a year training in the desert south of Bet-Rarat was no excuse for forgetting how to move in a rainstorm. He'd been doing so in plenty of places by now.

He thought back over the past decade or so since... everything had happened. He and Zrathanzon had traveled all over the Northern Continent, the more experienced half-dragon teaching his pupil about surviving, tracking, and fighting in all different terrains, climates, and conditions.

He leaped acrobatically over an overflowing stream that cut diagonally across their path, then glanced briefly back at the half-gold dragon. He was moving with his typical lithe grace. Every time Almonihah thought he was getting good, he looked at his teacher and saw just how far he had to go. He wasn't quite sure if the Ranger had just been holding back when Almonihah was younger, or if it was just the fact that, the better he got, the more clearly he saw how much more he had to learn. Whatever the reason, he was sure Zrathanzon must have a lot of practice—centuries worth, he guessed. Not that he could ever get the Ranger to admit to his age.

The storm broke in earnest as they descended through the pass. Despite their desire to reach the other side quickly, the two half-dragons decided they needed to seek shelter when the hail started falling. Fortunately, there was a small cave a few feet up a cliff along the edge of the pass. A short climb later and they were out of the storm.

They had to wait several hours in the cave. Despite Zrathanzon's occasional attempts at conversation, Almonihah waited in silence. The Ranger had gotten used to this treatment over the past several years, though there were times Almonihah thought he wondered where the curious young child he had once taught had gone.

Almonihah knew. That child had been buried with his friends.

Eventually, the storm let up. After waiting a little while longer, to make certain it wouldn't pick back up, the pair emerged and continued on their way. They exited the pass that evening, coming out from under the clouds just as the sun disappeared behind the Stormpeaks.

“Ranger lore says the Pass of Storms is enchanted,” Zrathanzon said as they made camp next to a stream—probably the very one they had crossed up in the pass. “Certainly no one's crossed it without getting rained on, that I've heard of.”

Almonihah grunted in acknowledgement as he finished setting up his tent. As he'd aged, he'd found it less and less necessary to talk. It was typically just a waste of time and energy, though he did find the bits of trivia Zrathanzon sometimes shared interesting. He just felt no need to say as much.

The Ranger sighed. They finished setting up camp and eating dinner in silence, as they had for so many nights over the past decade. Finally, as they finished cleaning up, Zrathanzon spoke.

“Do you know where we're going?”

“South. Lost Sea, probably,” was Almonihah's terse response.

Zrathanzon nodded. “Do you know why?”

Almonihah shrugged. “Haven't been there.”

Zrathanzon chuckled, then sobered. “There's a bit more to it than that. Yes, the south-central part of the area is a jungle, and we haven't been in a jungle before, but I've got another reason other than training for going there.”

He paused, but Almonihah said nothing. If Zrathanzon wanted to share his other reason, he'd do it without Almonihah asking him. After a moment, the Ranger sighed and explained.

“The Northern Ranger Order Headquarters are in the Lost Sea area. It's been too long since I've reported, though they're pretty lax about anyone who's not on the lines watching for Javni'Tolkhrah.”

“And I could join.” Almonihah said it more as a statement than a question.

“You can take the test,” Zrathanzon corrected. Then he smiled a bit. “Though I doubt you'll have trouble passing.”

Almonihah snorted. He'd already been living as a Ranger for almost his whole life. Not to mention being trained by one of the most experienced Rangers alive. He doubted he'd even have to work hard on the entry test. From all that he and Zrathanzon had discussed about Rangers, the test was more to make sure some city-type with no clue how to live on their own in the wilds tried to be a Ranger. They needed more men too badly to turn away anyone who might be able to do the work.

They arose with the sun the next morning and continued on their way. The two half-dragons headed mostly southeast, staying in the foothills rather than crossing the plains. As they traveled, the mountains to their south grew taller and taller. The Dragon's Teeth mountains were considered the tallest peaks on the Northern Continent. Most people said they were impassable.

Rangers knew differently. Zrathanzon told Almonihah they were headed towards a pass—the Lost Dragon Pass. It was a high pass, and too narrow for wagons. There were few outside the Northern Ranger Order who knew of it, according to Zrathanzon, and they were generally the only ones who used it.

“I would have liked to have reached it earlier in the year,” the Ranger told his pupil, “but we got caught in those sandstorms.”

Almonihah nodded. The memory of the lashing sands was fresh in his mind. He had been quite glad for his scales, then—he hadn't envied the orc tribes who made the desert their home, with no more protection than their clothes for their skin.

“As it is,” Zrathanzon continued, “we might get caught in some early snows in the pass. There's not much shelter up there, so I'd rather not have that happen. The better time we make, the less likely that is to happen.”

Almonihah's response was to pick up his pace from his normal fast walk to something of a trot. Zrathanzon grinned as he hurried to keep up.

They did make good time, reaching the Lost Dragon Pass during Tiamia, the first month of fall. There was snow on the peaks as they climbed up into the mountains but the skies were clear. Almonihah searched for the pass above him as they hiked up the steep slope, but saw only a solid wall of rock.

Zrathanzon saw the younger half-dragon's searching gaze and said, “You've got sharper eyes than me, but knowing what you're seeing is often more important than having a bit better eyesight. You see that opening there?”

Almonihah looked where the Ranger was pointing. “It's a cave,” he said, cautiously.

“A cave that comes out on the other side of the mountain,” was the half-gold dragon's reply.

Almonihah nodded. No wonder so few knew about the pass.

Snow crunched under the half-dragons' boots as they approached the cave mouth, but no new snow was falling. Looking in, Almonihah could see that the cave continued into the mountain for a little ways before turning a corner. Zrathanzon entered while his student was looking into the cave.

“It makes a couple of turns before coming out the other side, but it's not long,” the Ranger explained.

Almonihah entered the cave, his eyes quickly adapting from the snow-reflected sunlight to the darkness of the cave. Then they turned the corner, and he had to rely on his magical black-and-white vision that worked even in total darkness. The cave was rather sizable, and seemed to be a combination of natural formation and widening by something that left long gashes along the walls.

They turned another corner, and Almonihah could see that the cave had once split into two passageways, but one had long since collapsed. Zrathanzon pointed at the collapsed passageway.

“Once, a silver dragon lived here. He was a friend to the Rangers, and guarded this pass for us. One day, though, this passageway collapsed, and he has never been seen since. Most think he died in the collapse. It is in his memory that we call this pass the Lost Dragon Pass.”

“Know him?” Almonihah asked, in his characteristically brief manner.

Zrathanzon shook his head. “It was before I was a Ranger.”

“Hm,” was Almonihah's response.

Soon they reached the other side of the cave. It exited high in the mountains, and Almonihah could see that they still had a lot of mountain to cover before they reached lower ground. They spent the rest of the day hiking, and once they even had to climb down a short cliff. It was clear no one would have made his way through this pass with heavy equipment, or even a horse.

“This is why basically only the Rangers live in the Lost Sea area,” Zrathanzon explained as they camped for the night in a canyon. “No settler could get here with the gear to farm with, and no trapper could carry many furs out of here.” The Ranger paused, thinking, then continued, “Just as well, too. Settlers would really mess this area up. You understand,” he nodded at Almonihah and the symbol of Naishia hidden under the boiled leather armor he usually wore.

Almonihah grunted in agreement. His preference for wilderness over settled lands had only become more pronounced over the past years, which was one of the many things he felt he and Naishia had in common.

It took them two more days to get out of the mountains. The path they followed was treacherous and difficult, and twice more they had to climb cliff faces.

“Part of the test?” Almonihah asked the Ranger, pointing at the cliff they had just climbed down.

Zrathanzon nodded. “You might say that,” he replied. “Not many people who can actually get to the Lost Sea would fail the test.”

Finally, they turned a corner in the canyon and Almonihah could see the valley of the Lost Sea. Despite his self control, he gasped just a bit at the sight. The day was crystal clear, and they were still quite high up in the mountains, so Almonihah's keen eyes could see for miles. The mountains sloped gently down into the valley, their sides covered first with evergreen and then with deciduous trees. In the middle, just at the edge of his vision, he could see the glint of water—the Lost Sea, the only sizable known inland body of water that didn't drain to anything else.

Zrathanzon was obviously pleased with the younger half-dragon's response. “I thought you would like it,” he said with a grin.

Almonihah nodded in reply. “Definitely glad humans don't settle here.”

Zrathanzon let Almonihah take in the view for a little while longer, then said “Come on. We've still got to climb down here,” he gestured down. They were standing at the top of a cliff face.

Almonihah just snorted. He and Zrathanzon had climbed mountains with worse cliffs than these.

Almonihah could almost feel the temperature and humidity climb as they descended into the huge valley. He hadn't noticed as much the drop in temperature as they had climbed, perhaps due to the warmth of physical exertion, but he definitely felt the change as they descended. After two days of hiking through forest and then jungle, it was warm enough to actually make him uncomfortable.

He glanced at Zrathanzon. He didn't seem to mind the heat. Of course, he was half-gold dragon, and golds had a much higher heat tolerance than bronzes. Something about breathing fire did that, he supposed. At the same time, he was glad he wasn't a human or an elf. If this was uncomfortable for him, it must be unbearably hot for them, especially since the humidity would actually bother them.

As they descended, the foliage changed. He didn't recognize the trees around them, nor most of the other plants. He supposed they were now in the jungle around the Lost Sea. Zrathanzon said that it was like no other place on Draezoln, and Almonihah thought it was probably true. He took in the new sights, sounds, and smells as they traveled. This place was alive, even more alive than the North Forest, as if every inch of soil was crawling with life.

Zrathanzon identified some of the larger and more interesting plants and animals they saw as they traveled, and Almonihah asked terse questions for clarification or elaboration when he felt they were needed. They traveled for several more days in this way, until they reached the Lost Sea.

Almonihah gazed out over the blue as they broke from the jungle onto a beach. The Lost Sea truly looked like an ocean, its other banks beyond the reach of even his eyes. Waves gently lapped at the sands, just as they had the ocean beaches he had been to.

They traveled along the edge of the Lost Sea for a few more days. Once they reached its south shore, they struck off to the south through the jungle. After a bit of travel, the land started to climb again, and the temperature slowly started to drop. A few more days' travel brought them to an area fairly high up which seemed to have a more temperate climate, and trees that seemed more like those Almonihah was familiar with.

It wasn't long before Almonihah heard a strange bird call. He frowned. Something didn't seem quite right about it. He realized what it was when Zrathanzon responded with something that closely resembled a bird call himself. After a brief moment, a figure strode out of the woods in front of them.

“Greetings, brother Ranger,” an elven voice said, as the figure came into sight.

“And to you,” Zrathanzon replied.

The elf was equipped much like the two half-dragons, with tough leather clothing and armor, bow, and sword. His leather armor was very intricately worked, with a design picked out in silvery thread on the breast—a rampant unicorn, a symbol of Naishia, much like the one that hung around Almonihah's neck.

“And this one with you?” The elven Ranger inquired.

“An applicant,” the half-gold dragon replied. Almonihah nodded in agreement.

The elf nodded in reply. “I see. You will wish to see the Commander, then. I shall not longer delay you.”

The two half-dragons traveled for perhaps another hour through the woods before they came on a collection of a few cabins nestled in a small ravine around a stream. As they neared the area the cabins were in, Almonihah felt a familiar feeling—this area was dedicated to Naishia.

The half-bronze dragon glanced at his teacher, a silent question in his eye. The older half-dragon didn't seem to notice. Almonihah shrugged and turned his attention back to their destination. There were a few other Rangers in the area, some coming, some going. One of them noticed Zrathanzon and rushed over.

“Zrathanzon, you old lizard! Where have you been all these years?” The speaker was a big bear of a human, slightly taller even than Zrathanzon, with a deep, booming voice and a mirthful twinkle in his eye.

He wrapped the half-gold dragon up in a big bear hug. Zrathanzon returned it only a little less vigorously.

“Birek, you old bear!” Zrathanzon exclaimed when the stranger finally released the half-dragon. He looked the human up and down, shook his head, and said, “It's been too long. You've gotten gray hairs without me being around to watch.”

Almonihah had noted the silver in the human's hair. It made sense, if the man knew Zrathanzon. After all, he hadn't seen another Ranger to Almonihah's knowledge since taking him in almost twenty years ago.

Zrathanzon continued speaking as his pupil observed his friend. “I've been busy. I took this fellow,” he pointed at Almonihah, “in not long after you joined the Order, and he's kept me pretty busy. What about yourself? Haven't gotten yourself eaten by a Javni'Tolkhrah, I see.”

The man—Birek, apparently—laughed. “No, they haven't gotten too big a piece of me. A couple of them have gotten some bites, but the druids around here patch me up pretty well, and none of 'em have lived to get a second bite.”

Zrathanzon nodded, his face sobering a bit. “So you've still been holding the Line, then.”

Birek shrugged. “Haven't got anything better to do.”

The half-gold dragon chuckled a bit, then sobered again. “We'll catch up later, old friend. Right now, I've got a long-overdue report to give and an applicant to present.”

The big man nodded. “Well, I'll be around.” He turned to Almonihah. “Applying, hm? Well, don't think that test's too big a deal. If Zrathanzon's been training you, you won't have a bit of trouble.” He winked at the half-bronze dragon and continued on his way.

“Friend of yours?” Almonihah asked the older half-dragon as they neared the large cabin.

Zrathanzon grinned. “My last student before you, as a matter of fact.”

Almonihah's only response was a grunt.

They entered the cabin. Almonihah glanced around. The place seemed to be decorated with maps. They lay on tables, were nailed to the walls, and were rolled up on shelves. Most of the cabin was this one map room. One end of the room was walled off and had a door in it, the other held a fireplace, the only part of it made of stone.

In the back of the room, behind the largest table (which had a number of maps and papers on it), an elf sat in a simple chair. He looked up as the two half-dragons entered the cabin. Almonihah could see signs of age, which, on an elf, meant he was old indeed, at least seven centuries old. Despite his age, however, there was a steely look to his eyes, and he stood up with the assured grace of an experienced elven warrior.

“Zrathanzon,” he nodded at the half-gold dragon, “You were supposed to report in more often than once every two and a half decades.”

The half-dragon Ranger shrugged. “Things come up. I had another kid.”

The elf snorted, unable to completely conceal his amusement at Zrathanzon's response. “Last time you 'had a kid', you at least reported what was going on. I'd begun to think we'd lost you.”

“I'm not that easy to get rid of,” Zrathanzon said, with a wave of his hand, as if waving away the idea. “Now, I'm sure you're awaiting my report, but first I think you'll want to meet Almonihah here.”

The elven Ranger turned his attention to Almonihah. “Almonihah, hm? I take it you're the reason Zrathanzon hasn't bothered to talk to another Ranger for so long?”

Almonihah shrugged. “Suppose so,” he replied, the harsh, growling edge to his voice even more pronounced than usual as he eyed the elf uncertainly.

The elf stuck out his hand to shake. “Commander Imlloen, head of the Northern Ranger Order.”

Almonihah took the proffered hand in a firm shake, careful to keep his claws from piercing flesh, but not gentle. If the rough hardness of his scales bothered the elf, he didn't show it. His grip was as steely as his gaze.

“I'm guessing if this old lizard here,” the Commander said with a gesture at Zrathanzon, “is calling you his 'kid', you're wanting to sign on with the Rangers?”

Almonihah glanced over at his teacher. “How many times've you done this?”

Zrathanzon shrugged. “I stopped counting around the same time I forgot when my birthday was.”

Commander Imlloen shook his head. “You remember better than my records do how many Rangers you've trained, and you know it.” He fixed him with a glare that had just a hint of humor in it. “And you know perfectly well that you turn 541 in five days, a week before my birthday.”

Zrathanzon chuckled. “I never could fool you, Imlloen.”

The corners of Imlloen's mouth twitched upwards for a moment, and then he settled back into his chair, his expression relaxing a bit as he allowed the grin to show. “No, you never could. But you're right, your student here takes precedence over your report, overdue though it might be.” He turned back to Almonihah. “I take it, trusting Zrathanzon has done his usual job, that you have about as good an idea of what you're getting yourself into as you can?”

“Yes,” Almonihah replied.

The Ranger Commander nodded decisively. “I'll take your word for it. Zrathanzon wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't think you were ready, and his judgment is pretty good after all these years.” He glanced over at the half-gold dragon. “Speaking of you, I believe it's time for you to wait outside.”

Zrathanzon nodded, his expression sober again, and walked out of the cabin, closing the door after himself.

Imlloen turned back to Almonihah. “I don't think he'd do anything he shouldn't if he was in here, but I have to make sure everything you say and do for the next little while is not influenced in any way by anyone else. You will be making binding promises, ones that cannot be taken lightly. Do you understand, Almonihah?”

Almonihah nodded, solemnly.

“Now, Almonihah... do you have a last name?”

The half-bronze dragon's lips twisted bitterly. “Don't know it.”

Commander Imlloen nodded in understanding, then continued, “Almonihah, whom do you worship?”

“Naishia,” Almonihah responded.

Imlloen nodded again. “This order was established by worshipers of Naishia, and most of us still call on her, though the Ranger Orders accept followers of all goodly deities.” Returning to his questions, he continued, “Almonihah, do you affirm this day, in the hearing of Naishia, that you truly desire to become a Ranger, without outside coercion of any kind?”

“Yes.”

“Almonihah, do you now swear, should you be accepted into the Ranger Orders, that you will defend the natural world from the influences of Jivenesh and all other threats, to the best of your ability, so long as breath is left in your body?”

Almonihah didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

Commander Imlloen looked hard into Almonihah's eyes for a long moment, then finally nodded his head once. “Very well then. Before acceptance into our order, all who would join us must pass a test of ability and worthiness. Before I explain this test, do you understand that you may, at any time before you are formally accepted into the Ranger Orders, renounce your intentions to join?”

Almonihah snorted, mildly amused by the line of questioning, then said, “Yes.”

The Ranger Commander continued, the words obviously familiar, “The test of the Ranger is this: you will go out, alone, to a location I will show you on the map. You must reach the location with no guide. You must remain there, alone, until another Ranger retrieves you. During this time, you will likely be attacked by a Madness-Touched. If you cannot defeat it on your own, you need only retreat and call for help. You will, however, fail the test if you do so. Almonihah, are you prepared?”

There was still no hesitation in Almonihah's voice or gaze. “Yes.”

Imlloen again held Almonihah's gaze for a while before saying, “Very well. Come.”

Imlloen waved Almonihah over to his side, then pointed at a location on one of the maps spread on the table before him.

“This is where we presently are,” the Commander said, pointing at a spot on the map. “Here,” he pointed at a spot closer to the southern mountains, “Is where you will be tested.”

Almonihah studied the map, carefully memorizing the landmarks, directions, and distances he would need to reach the site.

“What's this?” Almonihah gently tapped a red line that passed a little south of the position he would be occupying with a claw.

“That,” Commander Imlloen replied, “Is the approximate border of the Madlands. I would suggest you don't overshoot and end up there.”

Almonihah nodded, thoughtfully. That would explain where the Javni'Tolkhrah would be coming from.

“Is there anything else you need to know, Almonihah?” the elf asked, after Almonihah stood up from studying the map.

Almonihah simply shook his head.

“Then be on your way, Candidate.”

Zrathanzon was a little bit away from the cabin door when Almonihah exited, talking and laughing with Birek. He saw his most recent pupil exit and strode over to meet him.

“Off to be tested?”

Almonihah nodded.

Zrathanzon laid a hand on his shoulder. “Then good luck, though I doubt you'll need it. You'll make a fine Ranger.”

*****************

So, this chapter represents a fairly major jump in time. We leave the child Almonihah behind and meet semi-adult Almonihah. This Almonihah is much closer to the familiar, antisocial, gruff half-dragon I've known for several years, which is probably part of why this chapter flowed much more easily than the last.

This is our first view of the Northern Ranger Order, but we'll be seeing a lot more of it over the next several chapters. It's kind of a strange organization, with officers who you aren't bound to obey... but we'll get into that later.