Draconnic Shenanigans - Episodes 38

 Chapter Thirty Eight: Hoarding Trouble

 

(Artwork my own, better quality later)

 "You are such a peasant," Ulrich sighed, grabbing part of the sheet of spiders silk that was flapping from Sabal's sword, rubbing it over the front of his shirt.

"Favorite of the Matriarch, this stuff..." Sabal began and then stopped as the silk stuck to the gunge and not Ulrich's clothes. He frowned a moment and then closed his eyes before he wiped his hand across the gloop that had splattered him. Narrowed eyed with distaste, he rubbed it on the edge of the web where it clung to his sword. After a moment the silk started lifting and he worked harder at using it to convince the web to start lifting.

"And you think that I care?" Kaelin replied to Ulrich's observation, smiling to hide the fact that she was feeling really rather sick. Her stomach was rolling and she felt as if she was turning green. She'd shifted back to her fully human form, though these days that was human with a side order of wings, as that sometimes help to heal the damage but it most definitely hadn't worked this time. She started putting her hand up to her back but then flinched away as her fingers dipped into a hole that shouldn't have been there. The weird thing was that it didn't hurt but she'd seen that in others and figured that it couldn't be good. She tried to shrug off her pack but she found the motion difficult. What the heck was wrong with her?

Meanwhile Tikrumpdel, having recovered from his bout of merriment, was eyeing up Valodrael with a speculative gaze. He craned his head forward and sniffed. The Void Dragon stood and tilted his head up, a proud challenge in his gaze even though his hide rippled with the first shocks of his condition. It hadn't been long since he'd been riding crossbow with Estella but the giant spider was not enough to fuel an extended excursion solo. There again... Behind Valodrael's hooded eyes speculation crawled as he eyed up Tikrumpdel's massive bulk and his mind calculated just how much magical life force crawled through that plump tissue. It took some strict diaphragm control to prevent a telling gurgle from echoing through the cavern.

"You are a Void Dragon," Tikrumpdel stated. That actually made Valodrael lift an eyebrow.

"It is unusual to find anyone who knows of our kind in these recent years," he stated, "I wasn't aware that we were that well known outside of the Far Continent."

"Oh," Tikrumpdel rolled slightly sideways and scratched at that persistent itch on his belly, "I visited that place about seven hundred years ago. Thought I could emigrate there after Gaudis died and those young upstarts got umpty. Didn't want much, just a corner of the tundra where I could pick off some of the mega fauna. I was even willing to stick to the predators if they had just pointed out which ones were the predators."

"I take it some of the locals were not open to mutually beneficial arrangements," Valodrael observed.

"Huh," Tikrumpdel snorted, puffing smoke and sparks to the roof of the cavern, "Damn snipperty, unwelcoming, pig headed blue noses."

"Ah," Valodrael purred, looking smudge, "The wonderful ranks of the Astral Dragons who must always be right because they thought it and therefore it is right."

"Damn self righteous fanatics," Tikrumpdel agreed, rolling back on to his belly, "Still that Day of Detonation, bad business all round that. Mucking about with magics like that, never going to turn out well, they should have left well enough alone."

"Oh," Valodrael seemed interested, "I was not aware that anyone in the ranks of the Astral Dragons were working with the Domilii in any capacity other than the direct war effort."

"Wouldn't know about that," Tikrumpdel admitted, "I didn't exactly stay after they had blistered my wings a couple of times and I wasn't exactly about to go back to offer myself for a second bout of it. None of my business as to why they started ripping each other to shreds over there. Besides, it was getting difficult to get into the air by then, didn't fancy a long flight for no certain return but as I said, it was a bad business all round. Nobody should be mucking about with magics like that but I have to admit that I thought all you lot had died over there. Your parents get out or something? Won't fancy your chances of finding a mate."

"My parents died long before the Day of Detonation," Valodrael stated, "I wasn't that long out of the egg in fact, on the day they perished by the Domilii's treachery and his Crone Dragon... ally."

"Get away," Tikrumpdel snorted, "If you are a day over two hundred and fifty I'm a tadpole."

"I witnessed the Day of Detonation from the very epicenter and one day the Domilii with regret the mistake of keeping me as his... pet." Valodrael's lip curled in a sneer that could have curdled milk.

Tikrumpdel made an indelicate noise in his throat.

"You expect me to believe that you survived that nightmare unharmed..." he started.

Valodrael liquefied, a terrible groaning, shrieking composite noise shredding through the air, making eardrums curl up and wish to die. There seemed to be several different versions of his voice, all howling or screaming or moaning all at once as the black oil of his form twisted and writhed through the air, leaping in series of arches that concluded as it struck Estella. She arched backwards and then bowed forward, grunting with the effort.

When she straightened and looked at Tikrumpdel her eyes were completely black.

"Unharmed?" Valodrael's voice dripped from between her lips, "You call this unharmed? Five hundred years I have endured, moving from vessel to vessel, never free of the pain. Even in this willing host I am not free of the pain I endured at the hands of the Domilii, always unable to take to the skies as a dragon truly should! I am but a half thing, crippled, broken, body-less! What is a dragon if he does not have his wings!?!"

Tikrumpdel sagged and looked over his shoulder. His wings gave an abortive flutter. Thorian staggered and lent into the gale that move kicked up.

"I hear you," Tikrumpdel sighed, head drooping to the floor, "And I managed to do this to myself. After Gaudis was killed and I lost my hoard, there wasn't much else to do but eat. It all adds up. So you're not after my hoard?"

"I wouldn't be able to protect it even if I was interested in such inanimate objects," Valodrael sneered.

"You don't even have a hoard?" Tikrumpdel demanded, lifting his head.

"I did not say that," Valodrael folded Estella's arms and smiled with a measure of his usual self assurance with her mouth, "I have a hoard but it is not of metal or magic. It is infinitely more precious to me than such things for all it is so very fragile. I will not say more when I am not at my full capabilities." Her head tilted in Jeremiah's direction.

"Ah," Tikrumpdel agreed, "In that I think we can agree to respect one another's property."

"That is preferable at this time," Valodrael bowed Estella's head to him.

"After all," Tikrumpdel chuckled, "It's not like I need the extra snacks, despite how tasty she looks."

Valodrael narrowed Estella's eyes.

"Oh don't worry I'll not try it, she probably runs faster than I can catch any way and..." he trailed off and then guffawed. Valodrael raised Estella's eyebrow.

"Oh ho ho," Tikrumpdel laughed, "That's not the sort of tasty you're worried about, is it? Oh I see, I see indeed. Well it has been a while since we've had a new strain of Dragonkin in the world, this will be interesting to see."

Estella frowned, her own expression as Valodrael started stepping back from dual control and then her face flushed red as she worked out what Tikrumpdel was referring to. 

"Speaking of seeing," Ulrich stepped forward, "I believe that we were discussing the possibility of you leaving this particular lair and traveling with us back up to the surface, before we were so rudely interrupted by these... people."

"Uhm," Tikrumpdel snorted, pulling his attention away from where Nanny Tatters' was picking over the remains of the battle. He'd been sniffing at her, clearly puzzled about her behavior. "Er, is that one with you?" he demanded.

"She's with him," Ulrich gestured to Jeremiah, who took a moment to bow to the pair of them and then walked on towards Kaelin, "We... Well, truth be told we picked a fight with her after we discovered that she was part of the plot to destabilize the society of the Ash Elves and we won but our esteemed colleague decided that since he was able to he would bring her back as an extra... ally for us."

Tikrumpdel craned his neck out again, sniffing at Nanny Tatters, who totally ignored him. It was rather fair as he was ignoring the one sided conversation that Estella was having with her passenger. It seemed to be a fairly intense conversation from her color but Ulrich was also trying not to listen in. It was the height of bad form to listen in uninvited on such a private conversation.

"Um," Tikrumpdel wrinkled his snout, "Can't deny that you are powerful. So this proposition of yours..."

Jeremiah walked passed the chatting pair. Let Ulrich run all the risks of talking to a dragon that could swallow him at a single gulp if he so chose to do so, Jeremiah had more interesting things to deal with.

"Er, you okay?" Thorian frowned as Kaelin swayed.

"I... think... I'm..." she managed.

Thorian caught her just before she smacked into the floor.

"Oh that's not good," he noted seeing the gaping, bleeding wounds in her back as her top rode up as exposed them, the small holes in the dragon hide armor belying the depth of the wound that it had hidden. He was used to seeing some pretty grizzly injures, the mountains were nobody's friend and were only moderately willing to let his people live there but Kaelin had holes in her lower back that he could have fitted his fist into. "That really isn't good."

"Well, I do think that I'll have to help our friend here," Jeremiah smiled as he drew up to them.

"Er, what's your game?" Thorian frowned up at him.

"Games, my dear Thorian?" Jeremiah smiled, "I'm not playing any games, merely offering to save the life of our good friend Kaelin. After all I did manage to save good sir Ulrich when we where in the city of the dwergs and he had been injured. Surely you can see that Kaelin now needs my aid?"

"She needs help," Thorian agreed, "But Ulrich acts a bit odd since you healed him back in that big city. What's that all about?"

"Only that good Sir Ulrich is being reminded that he now owes his soul to the One True God and that he should give thanks on a more regular basis," Jeremiah preached it, "But if you think you can heal Kaelin before she expires I'm sure she will not mind bleeding some more."

"Er?" Thorian frowned, trying to work out what Jeremiah meant.

"Tick tock," Jeremiah smiled, "You'd better start looking after her soon, I don't think she has that much blood left in her."

"Oh alright!" Thorian snapped, "Heal her but no funny stuff okay?"

"Oh absolutely," Jeremiah smiled and stepped forward, stretching his arms out wide, the pray forming on his lips. Kaelin's bleeding slowed but it was hard to say whether that was because she was being to heal or whether she was taking hold of the bony one's hand.

Jeremiah sweated, beads trickling down his brow and into his beard. For some reason Kaelin's injuries were resisting the blessing of his god. That or his god was reluctant to accept her soul.

"It's not working," Thorian fretted. Kaelin mumbled something.

"What was that?" Thorian bent his ear closer to her head as she lay face down in his arms.

"I said, pray harder," she mumbled.

Jeremiah drew himself up, robes billowing as he spread his arms wide, face darkening with effort, lips moving as he mumbled a prayer to his god, trying to convince him that if he allowed Kaelin to die then he would never be able to claim her soul but if he reached forth his hand now to heal and to save then Kaelin would be bound to him forever more, new hands through which he could work his will, new feet that would spread the knowledge of his word, his divine Will.

Kaelin ached as a pain seared up her spine. Some how, some how, she didn't scream but her mouth stretched into it, her eyes bulging with agony as her melted flesh reversed the process of narcotizing, blackened tissue flooding red, liquid muscle sliding backwards the way it came, reforming into solid meat.

Her jaw creaked as it tried to open further, something, something terrible hanging over her, filling her vision with its mind bleaching form.

It was a dragon and not a dragon at the same time, a thing of light that brought no sight, of shadow that brought no concealment. It rippled and wavered before her, the jagged whips of its outer shell staggering in lightning strikes across the impossibly of the realm.

Kaelin's stomach lurched as her body lost any and all contact with the world around her, her mind straining not to break under the scale of its titanic gaze. That stomach flip saved her.

She pitched forward, chest smacking into the arm Thorian reached out to hold her up and...

She vomited. She vomited hard, stomach voiding its contents with wretching, tearing sounds that felt like her toe nails were about to come up.

"That's it," Thorian rubbed a gentle hand over the new flesh filling her back, "It's it, ma'am, you bring it all up."

Jeremiah did a very undignified hop back as Kaelin wrenched again. He picked up one foot and tried to shake the puke off the toe of his shoe.

"Oh Kaelin," he sighed, "Did you have to?"

"Didn't have much choice," she grunted, leaning against Thorian and then jerked.

"Here comes the second round!" she managed to gulp, just before its exit tore through her hard enough to rip her stomach muscles.

Jeremiah backed up even further as it splattered the across the stones.

"Now really Kaelin, that is more than a little undignified," he admonished.

 Kaelin gave him the angry side eye and then tried something.

It turned out that her acting skills were some what impressive as she faked her heaves and groans and wretches.

"Would you like the porcelain truck?" Estella hurried over, her conversation with Valodrael forgotten about in the face of her concern for Kaelin. She crouched by Kaelin's side, putting a hand on her shoulder. Kaelin turned her head slightly, checked that Jeremiah couldn't see and then winked at Estella. Estella frowned, wondering what on Hestia Kaelin could mean by that gesture when it was clear she was in great distress. Then she realized that Kaelin was making an awful lot of noise but not that much mess now. She straightened slightly and then risked a quick glance over her shoulder.

Jeremiah was completely convinced by Kaelin's display and as his shoes were in enough of a mess he was walking, not running, he was walking, with purpose. The fact that the purpose was to be as far away from Kaelin as possible didn't need to be talked about. He hitched his belt a little higher.

Kaelin raised an eyebrow.

"My gods," she noted in a sore voice, "I think he is actually losing weight."

"Lots of exercise will do that for a guy," Thorian nodded after a moment and then held Kaelin sit down on her butt. For once Kaelin did not fight the help. Though half of her spasms had been faked, the other half had been all too real and it had left her sore and battered. Also with a raging thirst, something that she recognized as Estella held her own water bottle below Kaelin's nose. Kaelin took it and drank.

"Also less often dinners," Estella noted, "I'm not sure what schedule we've been keeping but it sure isn't regular."

"Ugh," Kaelin flinched, "Don't mention food right now, please." She put a hand to her head. "He might have just saved my life but there is going to be a cost from this. I just know it. Ugh!"

"Our proposition?" Ulrich was saying to Tikrumpdel, "Oh yes, that was it, a proper place to keep your hoard where it will be safe from adventurers with more bravery than sense come pocking around."

"Bravery? Ha!" Tikrumpdel barked, "The courage of adventurer's is one part bravery and three parts fool! Bah, half the world would be better off without them pocking their noses in where they are not wanted."

"A fair point," Ulrich conceded carefully, "But I would like to think that this group of adventurers has been a complete walking disaster. We did seem to have helped out among the dwergs and we are continuing to help the Serpent Clan of Ash Elves and by extension the other Ash Elves, even the ones who want us dead."

"How do you mean?" Tikrumpdel turned his head to look at his out of one eye, the gesture rather bird like.

"The Bat Clan are allied to the werewolves that have been destroying to citadels of the Ash Elves," Ulrich explained, "But they don't realize that the werewolves haven't been killing every body inside those citadels; they have been infecting a proportion of the population  instead. The Bat Clan are now out numbered by their allies and by the time they realize that it will be because the werewolves have turned on them and are trying to infect them as well. By trying to stop this war and help the Ash Elves change their society to be slightly less... judgemental of others, we are saving them all, even the Bat Clan who right now would like to see us all dead as we are derailing their plan to have their vengeance on the other clans but we are saving them, probably from a fate worse than death."

"Um," Tikrumpdel thought about it, "I suppose there has to be exceptions to every rule, otherwise you wouldn't know that it's a rule."

"You're too kind," Ulrich murmured.

"Now about this place you think my hoard would be safe?" Tikrumpdel queried.

"Ah yes," Ulrich smiled with growing confidence, "That would be the Wizard's Tower in the heart of the dead swamp. It is an extremely well defended location, with two outer walls, productive farmland and a master that recognizes the sense of preparing rather than panicking. Elisha the Mastersmith is a man of many talents, not in the least the ability to earn the loyalty of the creatures he creates."

"Mastersmith?" Tikrumpdel interrupted, "He creates creatures?"

"He can bring back the souls of bad people and make them work to be better," Thorian explained, "Least that's the way I understand it. Aye don't rightly know how he does it but Aye don't know how Jerries makes his dragon follow him around so there you go."

"The thing is that after a while the damned souls that serve him seem to develop a loyalty to him," Ulrich added, "He doesn't have to keep forcing them to serve him, they seem to develop a want to serve him and serve him well."

"That is unusual," Tikrumpdel admitted, rubbing his belly back and forth, rocks grinding to powder beneath his weight. He was not the only one looking thoughtful, Estella had a speculative expression on her face.

"Do you suppose that he may know something that could help with our... issue?" she whispered, apparently to no one.

"It is a possibility," Valodrael replied in her mind, "I would want to meet this Elisha before I run the risk of being in his debt because if he is anything like the one we are traveling with then..." He let it hang.

"I don't think he can be," Estella noted back, "By the sound of it, this Elisha has the actual respect of his creations. If that is so then he must be looking after them better than some gods do."

"Certainly more than most necromancers," Valodrael agreed, "So it would certainly be worth our while to have a look."

"That and he's living in the middle of a swamp so if it is a dead end then we should still be able to make the bridge to Seraphar," Estella observed and then wished she hadn't as she felt Valodrael go still.

"You're homesick, aren't you?" his voice was gentle and she breathed a sign of relief. He was not like her father and he certainly wasn't like her father's friend.

"Yes," she admitted, "I know you need this..."

"But you need to go home," he interrupted, "I've waited five hundred years, what's another year? Another decade? Yes it hurts but I have time and I'll have time again once I have back my flesh and blood. I apologize that I did not see that we had tarried too long away from your horde, forgive me."

Estella turned away from the rest of the King's Special to hide the fact that she was struggling not to burst into tears. Being safe to have a need was so... so wonderful.

"Thank you," she struggled to not allow her voice to crack. She closed her eyes and sighed as a feeling crept over her skin, a feeling of warmth, of being held.

"This is what I miss most in being body less," Valodrael murmured, "That which is gentle is denied me."

She chuckled a little at that.

"Who would suspect the great and terrible Valodrael, the terror of predators and monsters, would wish for something gentle?" she managed to smile through the tears clogging her throat.

"Sheng Tie was right, you have been good for me," Valodrael admitted, "Oh I'll admit that there is a certain satisfaction in waking a volcano and dancing in the ash cloud as the world splits but there is a bitterness in the destruction it would bring."

"I... I'm not sure I fully understand," Estella admitted.

"The world is hard, cold, cruel and ugly," his voice echoed in her mind, "That is the natural order of the world, that is what it wants to be. Therefore, to preserve something of softness, something of warmth, something of gentleness, something of beauty, that is the greatest act of chaos that can ever be made and I am a creature of chaos."

Estella closed her eyes, understanding what he meant by his regret for being body less in this moment as she felt the need to be able to lean into him, to feel the living presence of flesh and blood that gave comfort with its warmth. It was hard to know he was there and not feel him, to feel his arms around her, to feel his palm against her cheek.

"We get there, in time," he reassured.

"Any way," Ulrich was pressing on with Tikrumpdel, "The point is that Elisha has a small army at his disposal, which will be more than capable of protecting your most valuable horde. Not only that but he is also friends with a rather graceful dragon by the name of Amelia. Beautiful creature she is, as bright orange as a marigold and plant life just bursts into being where ever she walks so she is highly magical as well."

"A Tropic Dragon," Tikrumpdel raised his eye ridges, "Now I haven't heard of one of them outside their normal range for an age. It seems the world has been busy while I was asleep. Maybe it would be interesting to see how the world has changed in this age."

"There's also Hartseer, the King's best agent, you would definitely get on with him," Ulrich noted, "He has a pretty dim view people who steal stuff and he'd been stomping around the world for just about five hundred years so I guess he would be the perfect undying guardian for your hoard."

Estella's eyes widened as Valodrael churned within her.

"Hartseer?" Valodrael demanded, "He did say Hartseer, didn't he?"

"It sounded that way," Estella murmured, "Why? Do you know this Hartseer? Is he important?"

"Know him?" Valodrael churned some more, "I knew of a Hartseer but this cannot be the same being. The one I knew was the best General the Domilii ever had, his star pupil and the perfect pawn. He never realized that he was being used. Unless... Useless he was one of the successful subjects of the Domilii's experiments. If that is the case... It would certainly be interesting to meet him in person at last. I wonder if he's realized just how much of a monkey he was."

"You mind have a little trouble with the Chest Weasel," Ulrich was continuing, "But she is no more annoying than a toddler really and she does give you nice stuff to make up for it once you have feed her."

"Chest Weasel?" Tikrumpdel narrowed his eyes.

"Yes," Ulrich hesitated, wondering if he had just made an absolute blunder but pushing on, "A small Fae creature, looking a little like a ferret crossed with a monkey, has a rather spotty complexion and lots of sharp teeth. She feeds off of people annoyance with her but she always pays for her meals with a gift. She gave me a very nice saddle for my giant lizard that is currently being held in Nether Wallop for my return."

"Oh I know the creature you mean, we had a different name for them in Nalblahal," Tikrumpdel nodded, mentioning the dwarven mountain stronghold he was said to have helped found when he was little more than a hatchling.

"And what name would that be?" Ulrich inquired.

 "Get-out-of-here-you-worthless-piece-of-vermin was one of them," he vast bulk trembled with the chuckle as he smiled at the fond memory, "Gods-damned-nuisance was another. When people weren't yelling at them directly they were referred to a gremlins."

"Oh are they the little invisible creatures that dwarfs are always complaining about?" Ulrich asked, "I always thought that they were a myth."

Tikrumpdel laughed at that, a deep belly wobbling laugh that shook him like a plate of jelly.

"You live in a world where dragons can soar through the skies and wizards spin magic like a housewife spins wool," he chuckled, "Ah, little man, do you not know that there are worlds where dragons are the myth and magic is considered to be the very stuff of the greatest evil possible?"

"No I did not," Ulrich admitted.

"Oh yes," Tikrumpdel nodded, "There are doorways in the world. They are few and far between and difficult to power but they do exist. I met a young man from one of the other worlds once, oh must be centuries ago. He thought he'd died and come to a place called Hell when he saw me. Kept clutching this book he called the Geneva Bible. Said it was his greatest treasure. Couldn't see it myself, no gold in it and it wasn't even magical but he was bound and determined that it was his shield and his guide. I wonder if he ever managed to find his brother, said that was who he was looking for. Strange chap really, took one look at my hoard and said that it was impressive but that he had no need for such earthly treasure, only the word of god. I'm still not sure he wasn't insulting me."

"He was not, I am sure," Ulrich bowed to him, "It must be a truly magnificent hoard to draw so much of a compliment from a man who has sworn himself so completely to the service of his god and his brother."

"It was," Tikrumpdel grumped, "That was before, well, everything." He rubbed his belly against the stones again. "You know, that decides it. I want to be out of here. Snoozing away the years was okay for the first century but I am bored now, bored and it feels like my head is half stuffed with cotton wool. I need some fresh air and to see the sun again. It might just stop this confounded itching!"

"An eminently sensible decision," Ulrich bowed again, "Now as for the transportation of your horde..."

"Aye, now there a rub," Tikrumpdel admitted, "It's not as big as in my glory days but I'm not going to be able to carry it in one claw. You are pretty good adventures to have survived down here this long, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," Ulrich smiled.

"Huh, we're prisoners," Thorian grunted. Tikrumpdel turned his head to the orc crossbreed, his eye ridges drawing down.

"You don't look like prisoners to me," he rumbled.

"Our journey is our prison," Thorian sighed, "And that Hartseer fellow Ulrich mentioned is our chief prison guard. He's probably going to be very angry with us as we have been a way for so very long."

"We were all naughty people," Ulrich admitted, "And our sentence was to serve on the King's Special but it is still an honor to serve."

"Honor to serve, ha!" Kaelin barked, climbing back to her feet, "I stole a loaf of bread."

"Speak for yourself," Thorian muttered, "Aye just bumped into someone."

Tikrumpdel cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at them. He could tell that they were down playing just how much they had been the naughty people. After a while of being bracketed by that level stare Kaelin began to fidget.

"Oh alright," she admitted, "The bread was the one that I was caught for."

Tikrumpdel kept looking at her until she looked away muttering and fidgeting.  It was so freaking unfair, just how were you supposed to win a staring competition with a freaking dragon? You felt like you were falling into those eyes, as if they could know everything thing about you.

"I have a proposition," Tikrumpdel said, "Something that could help both of our causes."

"I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine," Thorian said.

"That as well," Tikrumpdel nodded, "Though maybe scratching you might not be such a good idea. I think I might do a little too much damage." He flexed his claws, displaying the fact that, though they were well over grown, they were still wickedly sharp. "What I was thinking more was that, perhaps, I could loan out some of the items in my hoard to you... for a fee."

"A fee?" Kaelin exclaimed, "Just what do you think we could pay you with?"

Tikrumpdel stretched out his flabby neck and sniffed at her, her hair tossing in the breeze of his breath.

"You have gold hidden under those gloves and you are wearing something of gold around your neck," he stated, drawing his head back in. Kaelin opened her mouth to retort but he lifted a hand larger than most horse and carts.

"Don't try to fool a being who can smell gold," he advised.

"So you have gold," Kaelin folded her arms, glaring up at him, "And you still want us to pay you rent?"

Ulrich groaned and put his face in his hands. Kaelin's distinct lack of tact struck again. Tikrumpdel, however, did not flame her to a crisp. Instead, he shuffled awkwardly and he didn't quite meet their eyes.

"I haven't... I don't possess... actually that much gold," he muttered and mumbled, looking any where but at them then added more brightly, "But I do have some magic items."

"I can give you Jerry," Thorian grinned, showing off his big, strong teeth.

"I beg your pardon," Jeremiah glared, face darkening with blood. His beard bristled, almost glowing with power.

"Oh alright then," Thorian shrugged, "His servants then. I suppose you could use Nanny Tatters to go out hunting gold for you, then you wouldn't need to move your hoard and if someone gets lucky and puts Nanny Tatters out of her misery for a second time it's no biggy."

"I object!" Jeremiah stamped up to Thorian, "My servants are not yours to batter with, they are my servants, tied to me and only me. They obey only me. If you wish to borrow something from this good... person's hoard then you pay for it. Any more trying to sell my property and I will have no choice but to report you to the King for thief. I would like to see you be let go from active duty after that my good sirrah!" He was glowing red in the face.

 "Okay," Thorian grinned again, "You could cook up Jeremiah and ate him."

Jeremiah blustered, spluttering with indignancy, words completely failing him as he tried to come up with a retort to such a suggestion, anger throbbing through him.

"Tempting," Tikrumpdel twitched his snout from side to side, "But no. I do want to try and loose some of this weight."

Jeremiah sucked in a huge breath through his nose, lips pressed tight, hands balling into fists. He drew himself up, ready to launch into the words of the very worst curse he could think of...

Kaelin made a heaving noise, right in his ear.

Jeremiah span away, hands up to try and deflect some of the incoming vomit only there wasn't any in coming vomit.

"You flinched," Kaelin grinned at him. Jeremiah glared but it had broken his concentration on the wording for the curse.

"Any way," Kaelin turned to the vast red dragon, "If we don't want to borrow any of your stuff we don't have to pay?"

"Yes," Tikrumpdel admitted, shifting uneasily, reading which way the wind was blowing.

"What have you got?" Thorian asked, "That's what I want to know before we do the agreement thing."

"Well the way I figure it," Kaelin noted, "We haven't even agreed to move the hoard yet so we could just walk away from this right now and not be bothered with the extra hassle. After all, we have rather a lot on our plates already, I don't see why we should be taking on extra work that we don't have to."

"Oh alright!" Tikrumpdel exclaimed, "You can have one item free of charge in return for moving my hoard. Bare in mind though, that is one item between the lot of you, not one thing each. If you want more than one item we are going to have to discus rent terms, you understand?"

"Oh," Thorian pouted, "And here's me hoping for as much as I could carry."

"Oh don't think I haven't had that stunt pulled by a hero before now," Tikrumpdel barked, "I've no intention of being fooled twice." Smoke coiled from his nostrils to spiral into the air.

"One moment please," Kaelin held up a finger, "I wish to have a private communication with someone."

Without waiting for a reply she turned and pushed off from the ground, winging her way back over the bridge to the other side, where she ducked behind some rocks so that she was out of sight. She took off the locket and held it up so she could see the painted face properly.

"Charlotte?" she called, "You there?"

"Yes? Can I help you?" the painted figure of Charlotte Darling stepped into the frame from the side.

"We have something of a situation," Kaelin admitted.

"Why do I not feel that this is going to be good news," Charlotte frowned ever so slightly.

"Long and the short of it is that we have met an extremely large dragon down here in the Underworld," Kaelin tried to kept the debriefing as short as possible, "His Lordship decided to convince it to come to the upper world and it wants to move its hoard to the Wizard's Tower. I don't think we are going to be able to convince it otherwise now that it has latched on to that idea so could you warn Elisha and the others that this is going to happen now whether they like it or not. If you can bring a reply back toot sweet I might be able to delay us a little to give them time to prepare."

"I'll see what I can do," Charlotte nodded, "If you would give me a moment." She stepped sideways out of her picture frame.

As it was, it was more than a moment and Kaelin was just beginning to wonder if she was going to have to come up with some plausible excuse for the others when Charlotte stepped back into the frame of the little picture hidden within the locket.

"Mastersmith Elisha says that it can be done," Charlotte nodded, "We have even found some deep vaults within the tower that have a magical dampening field strong enough to hurt the Damned Souls. If a dragon's hoard is not safe there, it will not be safe any where. Your problem is going to be reaching here in one piece."

"How bad is it?" Kaelin asked.

"The people managed to get enough of the harvest in for seed stock," Charlotte reported, "And thankfully the attackers don't seem to have anything in the way of siege weapons so the tower gardens are undamaged but Elisha had the people pull back into the tower itself a couple of weeks ago. They are still defending the out wall but he didn't want anyone else caught in the crossfire if they forced another breach."

"Oh," Kaelin flinched and then went cold as the full implications smacked her between the eyes, "Please, for the love of every god there is, tell me that no one was bitten."

"They were," Charlotte's news made her groan and close her eyes, "But Elisha has them quarantined away from the Tower and the Damned Souls seem to be immune to the curse the werewolves carry. At least so far none of them have turned into more werewolves so we are stale mated in that regard. The werewolves cannot infect us but neither can Elisha use their bodies to create more damned souls but their Ash Elves allies seem to be suitable for conversion so we are just about holding the numbers steady."

"Okay," Kaelin nodded, "Thanks for the heads up and we'll be there as soon as we can with the heavy reinforcements. Wait one while I go talk to the others, there might be something more that I have to pass on to you."

She stood up and clicked the locket shut. She hid it below her clothes again before she winged her way back to the others.

"About the Wizard's Tower," she addressed Tikrumpdel directly, "I'm afraid that I've just remember one rather critical detail."

"Go on," Tikrumpdel rumbled, eyes narrowed.

"Just before we left to try and find out why the trade route to Nether Wallop had clammed up tighter than a duck's chaff they were preparing from a siege," Kaelin reported, "One of the reasons we were trying to find out why the trade route was suddenly tighter than a duck's fundament was because we were fairly sure the two events were linked, which they were, but we have been in the Underworld for so long, trying to sort the problem at this end that the battle has most likely started at the Wizard's Tower so there maybe some heavy lifting to get there. That is assuming you still want to go."

"A whole army that needs a slaying and disposing of?" Tikrumpdel rumbled on a deeper note, "Oh lead me not into temptation, I find the way myself. Surface food would probably be healthier for me any way. Alright, you've made up my mind, if you help move my horde without losing any of it you can have one magical item free of charge. Any more than that and we'll need some more negotiations, I haven't got enough of a horde to be giving it away for free."

"And the army that is making trouble up top?" Kaelin queried.

"As I said, surface food would probably be healthier for me and if not, then it would at least be a change of taste," Tikrumpdel replied, "I am so bored of the taste of Ash Elf. They are dry and bland and light, rather like chicken. I'm not saying that there is anything inherently wrong with chicken but imagine eating nothing but chicken for a century or so. It is now deadly, deadly, beastly dull. I'll drag myself all the way to the surface to taste something else. In fact I'll give you a lift if you want me to, free of charge and all."

"One moment," Kaelin held up a finger, "Call of nature." She winged away, back to her hidden nook among the rocks, clicking open the locket almost before she stopped. Thankfully Charlotte was still there waiting for her news.

"You have a dragon incoming," Kaelin informed her, "I hope you can get the time together to have one of those strong rooms ready for its hoard."

"We'll manage," Charlotte replied, "If we can expect a flying dragon inbound it will give the defenders the heart they need. It is hard to keep fighting when there seems to be no hope."

"Well it will definitely be a dragon," Kaelin admitted, "The flying part..." She waggled her hand in the age old expression of not being sure.

Charlotte frowned but then turned her head as if listening to something that only she could hear.

"Just be safe on your way home," she nodded to Kaelin, "Time is running out."

"We'll try," Kaelin stated, meaning both Charlotte's wish for them to be safe and the unspoken wish for them to hurry as much as they could but Charlotte had already side stepped out of the picture before Kaelin had fully formed the words. Kaelin stood but she wasn't reassured as she clicked the locket shut and slipped it back under her collar.

"All sorted," she smiled at the rest of the King's Special as she landed back with them, "Shall we see this hoard then?"

They frowned at her but then Tikrumpdel shifted and wasn't there a lot of him to shift. He shuffled sideways, engulfing the road beneath his girth, clearing the way up to the mouth of his lair.

"There you go," he mumbled, "Up you go but just bare in mind that if you try to take more than we have agreed to I will know and it will make me rather... hungry."

"My good Sir Dragon," Ulrich bowed so deeply that he had to catch his hat and turn the action into a fancy flourish to disguise the misstep, "We are, one and all, fully aware of the great honor that you do us, allowing us so much as to look upon your wondrous horde. It would be churlish of us indeed to try and take advantage of such a confidence."

Tikrumpdel smiled as Ulrich straightened.

"You have a silver tongue, my little friend," he grinned, "Are you sure that you are not part dragon?"

"I am not aware of being such," Ulrich admitted, "But my mother's people have such accusations leveled at them in the past; accusations such as harboring dhampirs, Fiend Fathered and puca born so I suppose it is not too much a stretch of the imagination to believe that there could be a dragonkin or too in my bloodline somewhere. As to which sort of dragon, heaven knows."

"If it was any dragon at all I would not be surprised if it was not a Tomb Dragon," Tikrumpdel chuckled, "Those ones are known for having the gift of getting the little folk to do what they want them to do. I don't suppose your family has any connection with Albion?"

"The Abandoned Isle?" Ulrich frowned, "I..." He thought about it, trying to remember if there was a link between the family trees that he had been made to memorize as a child and the lands of the Albion Empire. "Not directly but I think there was an ancestor from the Hibernia Free State and they were one of the first of the Providences to gain their independence from the Albion Empire."

"So it is possible," Tikrumpdel rumbled, "I did always wonder about Mockblight. It did seem to me that he enjoyed playing the part of a human too much to have ignored all the possibilities that comes with that."

"Mockblight?" Ulrich questioned.

"Armasar Mockblight," Tikrumpdel rumbled with a sniff of distaste, "The Doom of Albion, the Lord of the Fallen Empire, He-to-Whom-the-Undead-King-Bows. Built up an Empire and then brought it to total smash. The dwarfs said he laughed as the ritual was initiated and the population of the Isle started dropping dead one after another. Right vicious basket but you have to admit he must have had the gift of the gab otherwise someone would have questioned a three hundred year long life span."

"Unfortunately we small people can be quite blind to what should be blindingly obvious when ignoring the blindly obvious offers us something that we want," Ulrich admitted.

"Well in that case you are not the only ones," Tikrumpdel sniffed, "Any way, if we are going to start on this journey you might want to hurry up and start loading the stuff up. Go on, less talk, more do." He jabbed his thumb at the slope and Ulrich bowed again before turning to the others.

"Alright chaps, you heard the good dragon, let's get too it," he said. With nods they headed to the slope, Kaelin and Jeremiah taking to the air to avoid the toil because toil it was. Although Tikrumpdel's repeated belly scratching had compacted the stones and outright crushed some, it was still an uneven, steep slope, likely to turn an ankle if you were not paying attention. They struggled up it becoming achingly aware that today had once again been a long and strenuous day. Estella was right, none of them had been keeping a regular schedule and it was beginning to tell. Kaelin wondered if that was why she'd been too slow to avoid injury battling the spiders and Estella had purple bruises developing under her almond shaped eyes. Whether or not they were put on inactive duty after they made it back to the Capital after sorting out the mess in Nether Wallop, she was going to ask that they were allowed at least a week of rest before they set off on the next mission. They weren't going to be much use to the King if they were all dropping with fatigue.

They stood at the top of the scree slope and stared at the cavernous entrance to Tikrumpdel's lair. Kaelin pulled out on of the last light sticks and lifted it high. They pressed forward into the dark.

The tunnel was rough and the floor deeply rutted, gouged by claw marks and the drag trails of Tikrumpdel's vast bulk. It smelt of hot metal, warm rock and flame grilled meat. The tunnel opened out into the roughly spherical chamber of Tikrumpdel's cave, the walls marked by the same rough excavation.

"That is it?" Kaelin asked nobody in particular. Tikrumpdel was right, it was not impressive, the puny pile stacked against the back wall of the cave and barely more than a cart load of stuff.

Most of it seemed to be barrels, though Kaelin's nose informed her that many of the smallest barrels contained either honey or spices, which would fetch a hefty price up on the surface. Thorian found the larger barrels contained something that smelled suspiciously like that drink that Ulrich had given him back in the Wizard's Tower. He was not going there again any time soon so he left them well along. Quenril shook his head as he discovered a flag of the Veasel Clan leaning against the wall. The most materially valuable item seemed to be a dish of cheap silver and a glass globe that swirled with flakes of white when it was shaken.

"Well what's this?" Ulrich asked reflectively as he lifted something from the pile. It appeared to be a bracelet, a dark echo to the one that adorned Estella's wrist. That one was made of gold and emeralds, this was jet and a strangely dark metal. Ulrich lifted it to his nose and sniffed. He was right, it was oiled steel.

"Tell me, Quenril good chap," he walked over to the head of his Ash Elf body guards, "Do you have any idea of what this is? I think it is something magical, it has that sort of greasy feel to it."

Quenril took the bracelet and turned it over and over in his hands peering closely at the symbols etched around the ring of metal and gems.

"It appears to be a Bracelet of Limbo," he stated, "Rather rare even among our people."

"You don't say," Ulrich raised his eyebrows as Quenril handed it back.

"Yes," Quenril nodded, "Items that could induce invisibility in the wearer were fairly common among our people. It was one of the ways that sons could gain safety among our people; if they were good at crafting such items, if they showed promise as a Pupil of the Begetters then they would be more valuable to the women of the Clan."

Kaelin fiddled with the collar of her jerkin and Estella surreptitiously covered up the Bracelet she had taken from the Citadel of the Snake clan with a hand.

Quenril frowned as the chirruping of the talismans distracted him for a moment, his skin shading to a deeper blue as he picked up the tidal flows of guilty consciences but did not have the time to tease out the meaning of what he was hearing.

"So what's the difference between invisibility and limbo?" Ulrich asked.

"The way I understand it," Quenril explained, "Invisibility just means that you cannot be seen, an arrow being fired through the space you are not seen in will still hit you. A Bracelet of Limbo allows you to step outside of reality completely for a time. It is said that it is a strange place, where you cannot be affected but neither can you affect other things. It is said that the wearer of a good quality one can pass through walls and even hear snatches of conversations spoken around them but cannot so much as pick up a book or move a stone."

"That sounds interesting," Ulrich grinned and slipped the Bracelet on to his wrist, giving it a twist before Quenril could say anything.

Ulrich stumbled. It felt like he had just missed a step on a set of stairs.

"What the..." he said.

Around him the world had shifted to a strange brown sepia tone with strange ripples of the true colors moving through it like streamers blown by an unheard, unfelt wind. Around him his companions still moved but their forms with distorted, as if he was seeing them through a piece of malformed, yellowish glass. He could hear Quenril calling him by his voice sounded faint and far away.

What sounded a load closer where the screams.

Someone was screaming and not too far in the distance. Threading through the air from that direction were lines of that sick non-light that made the not real body of the dragon thing he kept seeing whenever Jeremiah said the name of his god. Ulrich's mouth went dry and a cold wave rippled through him as he realized that the only reason that thing wasn't here to greet him was because it was having fun with someone else but someone else wasn't having fun with it.

"No, nope," Ulrich snapped back to reality, "Not my style what so ever. I think I'll give that to someone who can use it better than I can."

"My Lord?" Quenril asked.

"Just a little problem that I am working through," Ulrich admitted, "I have my own reason for... not liking it whenever Dear Jerry mentions the name of his god."

Quenril shuddered, flicking his fingers in the sign of warding off evil and asked no more.

 Kaelin pulled on a long handle sticking out of the pile of Tikrumpdel's hoard. It turned out to be a lot longer than she had reckoned and she struggled with the leverage until she managed to set her hands right and heft it.

The pike was nearly twenty feet long, the shaft a smooth length of dark walnut wood, polished to high shine. The head, long, sleek and wickedly shape was made out of a strange metal that seemed to be particularly translucent, a faint blue glow radiating from its edges. Snow flakes formed and fell around it, melting as they dropped away from it to fall with little plops upon the floor.

She grunted and then the pike head dropped with a clang against the floor. An irregular circle of ice crackled into being, chiming with its sudden existence.

"Well that's not something that you see every day of the week," Kaelin observed, hauling the pike to the vertical position so she could manage it just about. She had to use two hands still but she could manage it just. She tapped over to the pool of ice, one tap forward with the pike butt, two steps, left foot then right foot, then another tap with the butt of the pike. She prodded the ragged edged circle of ice with a toe.

"Definitely don't see that everyday," she noted.

Jeremiah was rooting through the pile on the other side. He seized the edge of what he assumed to be a golden platter and pulled but as it slipped out of the heap he realized that it had straps attached to the concave side of it. He held it up by its rim and turned it round. It was a shield, a beautifully crafted golden shield, lighter than he expected it to be, its edge embedded with large gems set in claw clasp recesses but its center was strangely clear of design. He frowned and tilted the shield slightly. The blank center rippled, extremely subtly, but it did ripple. Jeremiah placed the point of the shield on the floor and held it up by one hand on the top edge of the rim. He tugged his beard, eyes narrowed.

One finger pocked the blank center. It rippled more noticeably. He tugged his beard some more.

Standing up he slotted his arm into the straps and took a good firm hold. He closed his eyes as he started muttering a pray to his god.

Thorian sniffed as he spotted something in the heap. It was carved out of reddish cherry wood and studded with chips of sparkling pink rhinestones. The shape of it reminded him of the small, pink pony that had bounced through the wall in the Grand Hall in the goturi city and told them that they were missing the party. Thorian scrunched up his face, wondering if he dared to pick up the club and have a go at hitting something with it. He wasn't sure that it wouldn't explode into confetti or maybe a ball made out of mirrors.

"Do you want to swoop items," Kaelin asked Ulrich, hobbling over with the pike, "I don't think that I'm cut out to wield this thing." The pike wobbled and threatened to fall. "See what I mean? I don't think I have had the training to use it and I can't see how I'd be able to climb up to an open window while carrying this thing."

"And why would you be climbing up to an open window?" Ulrich asked.

"Isn't that why I'm on this team?" Kaelin shot back, "I'm the sneak, you're the silver tongue, Thorian is the muscle and Jeremiah... Jeremiah is the creepy one who, possibly, may have to be the one who does the stuff we find horrifying."

"What do you mean?" Ulrich frowned.

"What if we find out the one powering the werewolves warping of the magic is a child? A magic born child," Kaelin asked, "Would you be able to strike down a child to save the kingdom?" She watched his face. "Yeah, we'd hesitate, we'd want to try to save the kid as well and we may not have that luxury. Jeremiah? Jeremiah on the other hand, he'll do it without a flicker of doubt. He'll kill something that can't fight back as easily as he breaths."

"That is a truly terrible thing to suggest," Ulrich shuddered.

"And I've seen kids who would kill a baby to limit the amount of competition they have to face," Kaelin stated, "There are kids out there who are born with something wrong in their heads. They are rare, most of the monsters are made, not born, but there are some, like my grandfather, who are just born wrong some how."

"How would you know that?" Ulrich frowned, "I wouldn't have thought someone like the image you have painted of your grandfather would have spoken much about his childhood."

"He didn't," Kaelin lifted a hand to the collar of her clothes and then had to grab the pike with both hands to stop it falling, "But if he is connected to who I think he is then, well, my grandmother wasn't just my grandmother."

Ulrich frowned, not understanding what she was getting at.

"She was also my great aunt," Kaelin stated.

"Oh dear gods!" Ulrich exclaimed.

"Yeah, what a mucked up little family have I," Kaelin smiled because if she didn't find the humor in the situation then she was going to either weep or vomit, "So there you have it, I'm the sneak, you're the talker, Thorian is the muscle and Jeremiah is the creep and do you want to have a go with this. I think it will go better with your fancy mounts that it will with me trying to climb up walls."

"Go on then," Ulrich agreed, still shaken by her disclosure and what he had heard when he tried the bracelet himself, "Let's have a go at this thing." He took hold of the pike with one hand and handed Kaelin the bracelet with the other.

Kaelin backed away, studying the circle of steel and jet as Ulrich started running through some pole arm drills. He seemed to be trying to use it in the same style as a quarter staff but its extra length was defending his training.

Kaelin slipped the bracelet on and with a whistle, gave it a twist.

 The strange sepia world surrounded her, Ulrich a shadowy form that seemed to move at a different time speed to her. Her ears twitched. She could hear his voice through a muted distance. It seemed to be coming to her in snatches and rips, almost like she was hearing him through a storm but she couldn't hear any wind. She turned her head. It seemed to her that she could hear someone screaming in the distance and she frowned because she could have sworn that it was one of the spider centaur things that had attacked them but that couldn't be right, Jeremiah had killed those things, hadn't he?

She did not want to think about that.

She turned to the wall to one side of the entrance tunnel. She didn't want to try this on a wall where she wasn't sure what was on the other side. Walking through three miles of rock may not be the most sensible idea she ever had. She walked to the wall and lifted her hands. She pressed her hands against the surface of the rock and pushed. Her hands sank into the wall. She frowned at the feeling. It was not painful but at the same time it did not feel pleasant. It was rather like sinking her arms into a great, big bowl of custard, cold custard at that.

She took a deep breath and stepped forward. The feeling of the rock oozing over her face made her twist her mouth. As she took another step into the rock she slighted open her eyes.

She opened them wide and a gasp escaped her, then she realized she could breath in here. It was a strangely heavy breathing, as if something was pushing against her chest but it was breathing. She looked round. In front of her she could see Tikrumpdel fidgeting at the base of the scree slope, while behind her she could see the others wandering around in the cave. With a grin she forged on through the thick air that was the solid rock of the cave wall. It was like wading through warm water, warm, thick water.

Her hands emerged out through the wall at the top of the scree slope. She was careful to make sure every piece of her, including all her clothes where out of the wall before she turned the bracelet back to the inactive setting.

"Where did you come from?" Tikrumpdel demanded with a start.

"Let's just say now you see me," Kaelin grinned taking hold of the bracelet, "Now you don't." She twisted the bracelet again and Tikrumpdel started again. After a moment he started hauling himself back up the scree slope, sniffing as he came, nostrils twitching as he tried to work out if she was just invisible.

Kaelin was already half way back through the wall.

"Kaelin?" Ulrich called frowning and stepping forward to wave an arm through the space where she had been. It didn't connect with anything. "Kaelin?" He frowned, turning to Quenril. "Do you have any idea where she's gone?"

"Undoubtedly she is in the limbo place," Quenril noted, "She will be back once she is sure that the bracelet works as it is said it does."

"So you are absolutely sure it wouldn't..." Ulrich started and then leapt nigh on half a yard up as Kaelin whistled behind him.

"Now you see me," she grinned as he came back down half a second after his pike had clattered to the ground.

"Yeash, Kaelin!" Ulrich exclaimed, "You could give a body a heart attack doing that!"

"Oh do you really think so?" Kaelin grinned and looked round the cavern. Thorian was still peering at the club he had found, poking it carefully with a finger. Estella was beginning to stack the barrels up by size, sorting the hoard out by size and type of object, getting it ready to shift. Jeremiah was stood, a shield strapped to his arm, his back turned to her. Kaelin grinned even broader and twisted the bracelet to the active setting. Moving through the weird sepia world she walked up behind Jeremiah, leaned in close to his ear and twisted the bracelet to the inactive setting.

Jeremiah leapt about five feet up and ten feet forward as someone wretched in his ear. He spun about, shield lifted to smack who ever it was, though he was fairly sure who it would be, only she wasn't there.

"I think that this is our keeper," Kaelin grinned as she reappeared behind Thorian.

"Well if you know that then how are we supposed to move all this stuff at once?" Thorian asked, scratching his scalp as he stared at the pile of Tikrumpdel's hoard.

"Do you not have that talkative bag any more, good Sir Thorian?" Tasnar asked as he looked up from helping Estella and Sabal from shifting the scattered heap into something more organized.

"Oh yeah, doh," Thorian slapped himself on the forehead and then unslung the said talkative bag, setting it on the floor.

"You!" the bag of scolding shouted, "You! You will not, you son of a witch, make slaves of us. We have no fear of yea. By land or by sea we will battle yea and slap your mother!"

 Thorian straightened up, mouth screwing up tight.

"May Aye burrow this?" he asked, grabbing the hand of the red horse club but he didn't wait for the answer, instead bringing it down with a mighty wack on the top of the bag of scolding.

The bag groaned, dented in the middle of its flap and rather more scuffed than when they first found it. It twitched its strap.

"Now are you going to be nice?" Thorian demanded.

"Don't..." the bag wheezed, "Don't count on it." It flipped its flap as one corner jiggled.

"Well in that case," Thorian lifted the club again.

The bag danced out of the way, corners jigging, flap waving, carry strap waving through the air as it bopped along.

"What the..." Thorian frowned.

"You idiot!" the bag shrilled, "That is that damn things magic! It makes people dance!"

Ulrich was turning a darker shade of tan, his lips pressed tightly together, Kaelin had her hand over her mouth and Estella was laughing until she cried as Thorian chased the dancing bag across the floor. Even the Ash Elves looked as if they were going to lose their usually stoic composure as Thorian lunged and grabbed and the bag jigged out of the way. Even when he finally managed to grab the boogieing knapsack it didn't end, the bottom of it continuing to jerk and jump as it was dancing on and Thorian had to fight to keep the top flap open with one hand while fighting off the carry straps attempts to whirl him into a tango with the other.

Kaelin lost it completely when she realized that the only person who was not watching this performance was Jeremiah, the priest stood there, shield on his arm, eyes screwed closed, apparently unable to even hear when was going on. Kaelin wound up on her butt, clutching her sides as Thorian tried to wrestle the hoard into the shindigging bag, a battle that it appeared that he was losing.

Kaelin looked at the show again and wondered if she should put money on the bag winning. Then she saw Sabal and Tasnar laying down bets on a rock shell and wound up laughing until she and Estella were sat back to back, tears streaming down their faces as they fought to breathe.

At last Thorian managed to squeeze the last of the hoard into the bag of scolding. The bag itself seemed to have run out of puff, although every now and then it would twitch slightly.

"Right," Thorian straightened up and rubbed the back of a wrist over his forehead, "What are we taking as our payment?"

"This," Kaelin stated, holding up her wrist with the steel and jet bracelet on it.

"Well I don't want this," Thorian tossed the red horse club into the bag.

"I'm still in two minds about this," Ulrich examined the pike some more, tapping spots on the floor and wall with the head, flash freezing patches of stone. He tried tucking it under one arm and gripping it to his side like a lance, couching like he was riding a horse. "Could do it," he mused, "But I'd need a saddle with some stirrups for it to really be effective and..." He looked at Peter and Weatherall. Peter didn't have a lot of clearance for a saddle on his back to include stirrups and Weatherall? It was hard to imagine what kind of saddle could go on Weatherall's shell.

"I'm not fussed so in it goes," he threaded the pike into the bag of scolding. It groaned but didn't say anything, for once.

"This would be most fortuitous," Jeremiah stated holding up the shield, "I say that I am allowed to have this."

"And you having a shield would be better because?" Kaelin asked.

"Well, my dear," Jeremiah smiled, "Seeing as you owe me one for making sure that you can still breath perhaps it is time that you behave in a less selfish manner than your usual demeanor."

"Less selfish?" Kaelin's eyebrows climbed for her hair line.

"Now I know that you were not exposed to proper behavior during your formative years and this has lead to an understandable lapse in your ability to think of others before yourself but now you are among more civilized people you need to exercise the ability to put aside the childish selfishness that has marked your life so far," he explained kindly.

"Oh really," Kaelin's face was deadpan.

"It is the mark of the child to think of themselves first, particularly in women," he smiled, "It is the mark of maturity to put the needs and wants of others first, always. This is why women are supposed to be married, so that their husbands can help them away from the instinctive need to think of themselves first and..."

Kaelin bent over and heaved, gagging and choking as if she was going to throw up his shoes again. Jeremiah shut his mouth sharpish and backed away, trying to keep his shoes clean or at least cleaner.

"Who's thinking about themselves first now?" Kaelin asked, straightening up, wiping her mouth, "And let me point out a few things starting with the fact that I did bring in a set of allies for the King's Special and they were fighting well for us until you murdered their leader. After that there is the fact that, unlike Thorian or Ulrich or indeed the bulwark that is your mighty self, I am a sneak and this bracelet would allow me to sneak that much better, including being able to reach the inside locked rooms."

"And just how does that help the team instead of just yourself?" Jeremiah smiled as if he were indulging an errant child.

"Oh just little things like being able to get into the room where our records are being kept," Kaelin smiled back, "After all, if the record of our crimes is erased then how can we be legally kept on the King's Special."

"Now that sounds good," Thorian nodded.

"And may I ask since when does the mighty Jeremiah get stuck in?" Kaelin continued, "A shield would be ore useful to Ulrich or Thorian."

"This is a Shield of Faith," Jeremiah snapped, standing as tall as he was able, "It allows me to accuse more of my god's power..."

"And what's that?" Kaelin dang near sneered, "Sacrificing those smaller and weaker than you?"

"That's what they are there for!" Jeremiah spatted, "Lesser beings are only permitted by the gods to exist to fuel the greatness of those stronger than them! That is what they are made for. You don't concerned the fear of the chicken when you put it in the cook pot!"

"Actually old boy there is a reason why there is a rift in the nobility over this business of fox hunting," Ulrich observed, "There are plenty that would side with you but there are also those that argue that you shouldn't hunt something that can't fight back, to pick on those smaller than you are is the act of the bully and you have obviously never seen the spurs on a fighting chicken. There are reasons why cock fighting is considered a blood sport."

"Aye trust Kaelin more than I trust Jerrus and there's a reason for that," Thorian folded his arms and scowled, "It's called Calypso."

"What?" Jeremiah frowned.

"Calypso, mah dog. Remember him?" Thorian asked, "Cause Aye do. Perhaps if you'd cared a bit more about may pet, I'd trust you more."

"I vote of Kaelin," Ulrich said, only half paying attention to the argument, spending more brain power on gazing at the gaping mouth of the exist tunnel. It had occurred to him to wonder how they were going to manage maneuvering Tikrumpdel back to the surface. It wasn't like he was tunnel sized and if they had to wait for him to excavate his way out of the Underworld then they could be in for a long wait and Kaelin was running out of time on that forfeit.

"I'll second that," Thorian nodded, "Hand it over." He held the bag open in front of Jeremiah.

"But... but..." Jeremiah protested.

"The Favored of the Matriarch has spoken," Quenril stated, stepping forward, one hand resting on his sword hilt.

"That and for all your praying," Tasnar observed, stepping up beside his brother, "The Shield has refused to attune to you."

"I beg your pardon?" Jeremiah demanded.

"The Shield has refused to attune to you," Tasnar repeated, "If it had attuned to you then the symbol of your god would have appeared in the center." Behind them Sabal arched his fingers to ward off evil. "It has not done so therefore the Shield wants to have nothing to do with your god. Are you going to try and force it to do so? Are you really willing to risk the back lash if it refuses you?" The question was sweetly put but there were claws hiding behind the syrup.

Grumbling Jeremiah stuffed the Priest's Shield into the bag and stomped out of the cave in a high old temper.

Giving the area one last sweep to make sure they hadn't missed anything, the rest of the King's Special followed him out, Thorian swinging the Bag of Scolding over his shoulder. It groaned again but kept silent.

They found Tikrumpdel half way back up the path, having a good old sniff over the area where Kaelin had appeared and then disappeared from.

"Ah," he said, when he spotted the bracelet clasped around her wrist, "That's how you did it."

"Yep," Kaelin grinned and held her hand up, "This is the one we decided upon as payment. That alright with you?"

"It was the agreement," Tikrumpdel grumbled and then sighed, "I hope you realize how hard it is to give up any part of my treasure. It goes against the grain to let any one take some, especially when I don't have that much to give."

"Tell you what old boy," Ulrich noted as he started walking down the slop, "The pike and the shield would definitely be useful to the military so how about after we sort out the doings at Nether Wallop we drop a word to his Majesty that you have some items that you are willing to rent out. After all a King is going to have access to much more gold than we will probably see in a life time and I'm sure that you could hammer out the details of a proper written up contract with him, including all the clauses for damage and breakage and the such."

"Now that sounds like an idea," Tikrumpdel agreed and slid on his belly back down the slope to give them room.

Climbing down the slope was an interesting experience, some of it done sliding upon the backside and it unfortunately gave them an insight into how much of it was actually made up of pellets made out of suits of Ash Elf armor that had been washed clean in a super strong acid bath and then crushed into these rounded lumps.

"I take it that the locals didn't know when to leave you well enough alone?" Ulrich asked.

"You would think that after the first army wound up in my belly that they would take the hint and leave a body well enough alone," Tikrumpdel observed, shuffling round so he was facing the way that the King's Special had approached his lair, "But no, they kept lining up to try it and not a decent piece of loot between the lot of them. Inconsiderate little fleas."

"It seems to be a trait of a lot of people who believe that they are greater than everybody else," Ulrich noted, "Now old boy, this is just a logistical question, but what path do we use to get out of here with you?"

"Same way I got in," Tikrumpdel smiled, "The river, only this time I'll be heading up it."

"Ah that makes perfect sense," Ulrich noted, frowning slightly as Tikrumpdel started hauling his bulk along the road, claws gouging into the wall and crushing the balustrade to dust as he heaved and pulled his bulk along the wide way. The King's Special and their allies followed along behind him, staying far enough back that they were out of the way of the sweeps of his thick tail.

The bridge creaked alarmingly as Tikrumpdel dragging himself along, bringing to pant with the effort of moving. He did paused for a second to catch his breath near the end of the bridge but a sharp, worrying bang echoed around the cavern.

"Oh booger it," Tikrumpdel grunted and lugged himself off the bridge. The King's Special picked their way over it very, very carefully as Tikrumpdel paused for breath again and then decided on trying a different way of moving, bracing himself up on his front legging and swinging both arms forward at once, bracing his tail slightly forward at the same moment, using his falling weight to ripple himself forward. The noise of blubber slapping off of rock was deafening but it was faster than dragging hiself hand over hand. He paused again for breath but set off again as the King's Special catch up with him.

"I have got to lose weight," he grunted as he reached the space in the balustrade and stopped again to catch his breath.

"I'd hold back a minute chaps," Ulrich advised as Tikrumpdel started, shuffling himself round, trying to pivot in, what was to him a small space.

"Why?" Estella asked. Jeremiah however, understood in an instant.

"Gerard, light!" he snapped, pointing out over the drop of the slop. Gerard took flight and buzzed off into the darkness, illuminating the path dropping smoothly down to a wide shelf beside the river. The bank of the river however...

Tikrumpdel gave into his weight hanging over the edge of the drop and started sliding down the slope, picking up speed as he did so.

"Oh booooooooooooooger it!" he yelled and a second later he shot off the edge of the shelf of the rock to splash down into the river with his front half, his snout smooshed up against the  far cave wall, his chins resting on the tumbled remains of the block house that had fallen off the edge of the cliff above. Water sheeted up and rained down with the force of a waterfall.

"Ow," Tikrumpdel muttered and pulled his face off of the rock wall, wiggling his snout as the water backed up on his right side, suddenly impeded by a dam of flesh.

For once, Jeremiah wasn't the only one struggling to suppress his laughter as Tikrumpdel's butt wiggled from side to side and then shambled round to flop of the embankment into the suddenly shallower water downstream. The river bubbled up round his shoulders and then settled into a new flow level, although it was still backed up in front of him. He rocked his mass over until his blubbery shoulder with bunched up against the wall of the river bank.

"Anyone want a lift?" he asked as the King's Special walked down to the rock shelf.

"I'll go by dragon!" Kaelin grinned after a moment, imagining what her grandfather's face would look like if she rocked up on the back of this big boy. Yeah, she doubted that Tikrumpdel could fly but even so, he'd look terrifying smashing his way though the trees to reach the battle lines of the werewolf clan. And she could be riding on the back of his neck, making Haggis roar to the heavens as they brought the fire and the flame. She scrambled up that soft shoulder, using her wings to help her make it up the slope. His scales were surprisingly slippery.

"Oh Booyah!" Thorian beamed and bounded forward only to slip and smack down on Tikrumpdel's shoulder, slipping back down to the rock shelf.

"You okay there?" Tikrumpdel asked. Thorian humphed and tried again, this time taking it slower and using his hands as well, only trying to stand back up once he was up on the broad expanse of Tikrumpdel's back, the spines of the dorsal ridge nearly lost in the extra padding that seemed to be fairly evenly distribute around his personage.

"Hum," Ulrich hesitated, "As much as I appreciate the offer I don't wish to have to abandon my crew and I doubt that you'll want the likes of Marmaduke climbing around up there."

"What are you babbling about?" Tikrumpdel twisted his head about to sniff at the automaton. Marmaduke whirred and tilted his head from side to side in response. "He doesn't seem to be very large and the crab is hardly an issue. If he is the sort to help clean a larger body, I have a patch between my wings that I just cannot get it to shed properly. It's ruddy itchy. Might have a difficultly in getting them up there though."

"That will not be an issue," Quenril smiled, eyeing up some of Tikrumpdel's deeply embedded thorn like spikes, Tasnar and Sabal already unreeling their climbing ropes.

"What have you in mind chaps?" Ulrich asked.

In reply Tasnar and Sabal cast their ropes high, looping the thorny protuberances, leaning back into the slop, bracing themselves against the ropes, walking up Tikrumpdel's shoulder with steady tread.

"Huh," Thorian grunted, "Aye could have done with that."

The two Ash Elves leaned forward and lunged to catch the thorny scales just as the rope loops threatened to slide off them because of the change in direction of the load on them. They looped one arm through the ropes, braced with two hands and kicked off, bounding forward and up so that they feet landed on the top of the thorns and then the next bound had them up on the part of the slope that was leveling off and so not threatening to tumble them back down to the rock shelf.

"Would Lady Estella like a hand up?" Sabal called back down, checking to make sure the rope hanged low enough.

"Lady Estella would," Estella smiled up at him, her talismans dancing around her as she took hold of the end of the rope. Her assent was slower and less graceful than the Ash Elves, her grip on the rope over tight with nerves but it was slow and steady as Quenril busied himself starting to rig up Marmaduke with the end of Tasnar's rope. The talismans chirruped and twittered their encouraged and reassurance as she climbed higher. She smiled as she took Sabal's hand to help her up and over the last stretch.

"Thank you good sir," she said as she stepped passed him and settled herself on a cushioned patch near the dorsal ridge. The scales were as warm as a stone pavement that had been baking in the sun for the best part of the day, the heat soaking through clothes made damp by the fogs and mists of the cavern.

"Told you'd come around eventually," Tasnar winked at Sabal. Sabal looked away and blushed. Below, Quenril frowned and shook his head as he picked up on his cousin's embarrassment. He would have to remind his younger cousin to keep it as a distance admiration. Lady Estella was currently claimed by a dragon and they did not tolerate their hoard being poached. Pushing that thought aside, he concentrated on tying off the end of Sabal's rope in the harness he had improvised around Marmaduke.

"Ready?" he called up.

"Ready!" the other two called back and then pushed themselves off down the slope of Tikrumpdel's shoulder. The ropes caught over the two thorny protuberances they had used earlier and then they were running over the scaly spines as the two Ash Elves dropped and Marmaduke rose up the slope, whistling like a kettle at the sudden change. Ulrich grinned and kneed Peter forward.

Tikrumpdel shivered slightly as the giant centipede trundled up and over his scales.

"That tickles," he grinned.

"Only be a moment sir," Ulrich reassured as he caught hold of one of the ropes tied around Marmaduke and held on, helping to pull him the last of the way up. Marmaduke buzzed and whined as Ulrich set about reclaiming the ropes from around him, guiding Marmaduke and Peter to the patch of thicker back scales between Tikrumpdel's wings.

"Best to stay here chaps," he told them, "Don't want you falling off on the way."

Below Quenril was flicking the end of his own rope at Weatherall. As he hoped the giant crab grabbed the rope and pinched it as hard as he could. Quenril took up the slack and then jerked the rope back and forth, making it ripple in the air. Weatherall grabbed it with both sets of pincers.

"Watch out below," Thorian called, dangling one of the ropes down over Tikrumpdel's shoulder. The huge red dragon seemed to be quite content to let them get on with embarking without hassling them, his head plunged under the surface of the water. From the ripples of his throat, Kaelin was fairly sure he was attempting to drink the river dry.

"Thank you good sir," Tasnar seized the rope and swarmed up it, Sabal following once he had reached the top. Quenril started up once he was sure that both his kin were safely on board and that Weatherall was well and truly engaged with hanging on to the rope. Once at the top, the three Ash Elves, Thorian and Ulrich started pulling on the rope.

"One, two and haul away," Ulrich started singing. The Ash Elves frowned at him but Thorian picked up the old work song, bellowing along and hauling in time. Gradually the Ash Elves picked up the rhythm. 

"One, two and haul away,

Will I ever see my pay?

One, two and haul away,

 Out in the sun all day.

One, two and haul away,

Begging for my girl to stay.

One, two and haul away,

Feeling my strength start to fray.

One, two and haul away,

I'll take the money, if I may." 

 Weatherall waggled his eye stalks as they pulled him up and over the rolls of Tikrumpdel's shoulder, apparently confused about how he had managed to get up there. The haulage party frowned back, staring at the Ash Elf puppet and the vigor pack barer where the clung to Weatherall's shell. Weatherall twitched as if he wondered if he should try to scuttle back down but then he spotted what Peter was up to.

"Peter!" Ulrich called, starting towards the centipede, "Not a good..."

Peter's mandibles scissored through the greyish area of scales with the slow, deliberate precision of a horse doctor clipping a hoof to the right shape.

"Ahhhhh," Tikrumpdel lifted his head from the water, "That's better. I've not been able to reach that spot in an age. Thank you which ever one of you that was." Peter continued to sheer through the improperly shed area of scales, a whiteish fluid that smelt more than slightly stale to Kaelin's sensitive nose leaking from the rent. Weatherall carefully picked his way forward and took hold of the closest loose edge, tugging on it. Peter reared up, mandibles open but Weatherall also rose up, one claw held wide.

"Now chaps, less of that," Ulrich said sharpish, putting a hand on both of their shells. After a moment they settled back to the task of picking the big dragon clean but kept a jaundiced eye on each other.

"All aboard for the surface?" Tikrumpdel asked, craning his head round as far as he could to check on his passengers. The sound of wings resounded as Jeremiah settled himself at the base of Tikrumpdel's neck.

"Of course we are, now that we are riding in state," he smiled through his bread at the big dragon. Tikrumpdel narrowed an eye at them, not entirely convinced by Jeremiah's tone, possibly picking up the clue from Thorian's look of concern but he straightened out his neck and started wading up the river.

The bridge was something of a tight fit. His head and shoulders just about fit through but the gap was only just big enough for his ribs, pushing the rest of his paunch down his ribs, making it bulge up until he resembled a squeezy tube that had been half squeezed. The river rose, blocked by this mass in its way, bubbling up and up his chest as he pulled and squished and squeezed himself through the gap, grunting and groaning as he went, the roll of fat gradually being pushed further and further down his body.

"I say, good chap," Ulrich frowned, "Are you alright?"

"Blasted bridge," Tikrumpdel grunted, the water up to his chin, "Damn thing has definitely shrunk while I had my nap." 

Estella clapped her hands over her mouth as her kirin talisman whinnied a description of Tikrumpdel's back legs being pushed out straight behind him, his feet turned sole up, wiggling frantically as the bulge rolled down to his knees.

There was a definite pop as he came loose and then the roar of water refinding its level as the river rushed passed his shoulders.

"Ah that's better," Tikrumpdel sighed and started crawling forward again, hand over hand, the river lifting him slightly and making it easier to slide along. The King's Special and their allies settled back to enjoy the much smoother ride as the cavern opened out and the light from Jeremiah's turning sigil, though it was sickly and uncomfortable, shone out illuminating the pillars and fans of drip stone that stood all around them. Them didn't talk much as the current gurgled and chuggered round their living raft. It was hard to think of something to say in the face of such awe inspiring natural architecture. The mind became quiet as it tried to accept what it was seeing and the vast depth of time that surrounded it.

Unfortunately there were those that just could not appreciate beauty, no matter how much of it surrounded them.

"That's funny," Tikrumpdel muttered, lifting his head from having slurped up another mouthful of drink.

"Oh and what is this humorous thing?" Jeremiah asked with his usual honey sweetness.

"I could swear I could taste Ash Elf in this water but that shouldn't be, unless..." he trailed off, peering ahead and put on a burst of speed, pushing in a space where the passage of the river narrowed between some deposits of harder rock and there for deepened, giving him a great depth to work with, his bulk beginning to rise off the river bed as the water mass began to be enough to give him buoyancy.

The King's Special looked around and then clustered together near the center of his back, where they had the widest expanse of flesh to balance on before they had to start worrying about sliding off.

The water began bubbling and babbling as it was forced between the tall banks of stone, the rippled colors shining as Tikrumpdel's passage pushed water before him and sent it rolling up the bank as it poured around his shoulders. Then he sank into a deeper, broader pool of water where either a fissure had filled with water before it ran over or a more reactive rock had dissolved in the water and left a hollow to be filled. The water rose up until he was swimming along with the water running along his top lip, steam rising from his teeth as the water heated in the heat of his breath, the wake of his passage stretching out behind him.

Kaelin stood up, ears swiveling as she listened to the echoes.

"What is it?" Ulrich asked but she hushed him. Intrigued Ulrich stood up as well, Thorian following suit.

"Well that can't be good," he noted, hand going over his shoulder for his sword.

"They certainly don't know when to give up," Jeremiah rose and spread his wings wide, hands pressed together in prayer.

Down the river the rafts came, the faces of all the Ash Elves on board them showing the mark of the savagely reshaped noses of the Bat Clan above their savage grins, the log poles in their hands fending off the rock walls of the river as they came. What they were yelling was indistinct in all the over lapping echoes but it wasn't hard to guess what their intentions were.

Kaelin looked around with a frown. There had to be a different way of handling this, she was sick of nearly dying because people weren't willing to leave her alone. She spotted what she wanted and pushed off from Tikrumpdel's back, spreading her feathered pinions as she soared away from the wallowing dragon. Behind her the Bat Clan Elves cat called and hooted at her but she didn't care, this time she wasn't running away and leaving her friends in the lurch. She dropped out of the air, crouched and managed to pick up a pillow sized rock. She folded her arms around it and had to do a running start to get back into the air. Her face twisted but she locked the sound of effort behind her teeth. She swooped out over the rafts.

"Right, flat faces," she called down to the Bat Clan Elves, "Either you pass on by us without a problem or it is going to start raining rocks!"

 The cat calls and hollers quietened down as they realized that she was deadly serious. Several faces were marked with the calculations of how fast she could find new rocks, others were glancing down at the lashings binding the rafts together, clearly wonder how many pillow sized rocks it would take to knock them loose and dump them all in the icy water.

"That and if you don't pass on by without a fuss then Mister Big is going to eat you up," Kaelin grinned through the pain building in her chest.

The Bat Clan Elves gazed up at her and then turned as the ripples jostled the rafts. Tikrumpdel was pushing harder at the water, lifting his head clear of it and grinning at them. So, so many teeth that gleamed in the light rippling up from the water, the reflection of Jeremiah's rotting sigil shining off the ripples and eddies, turning the cavern in to a dancing maze of light.

Up above Kaelin wobbled in the air. The extra weight was really beginning to get to her. She saw some of them looking up at her, eyes narrowed.

"Oh it's so heavy," she grinned, pretending to nearly drop it. Several of them dived out of the way, punting poles forgotten and falling into the river but a couple of others reached for their hand bows.

The cavern rang with Tikrumpdel's in drawn breath then he plunged his head under the water.

The stream of roiling water shoot arrow fast across the pool, cutting between the rafts and erupting through the surface. The rafts staggered in the water as the steam punched upwards, throwing the Bat Clan Elves off their feet and someone screamed as they pitched into the fountain of super heated water. Ripples cut and chopped across the surface of the water as the rafts rolled and pitched in the surf. There was a resounding crack as something gave way on one of the rafts and suddenly some of them were struggling to hold their craft together.

The echoes receded and left behind a quiet moaning.

The Bat Clan Elves glared up at Kaelin as they grabbed the punting poles they could reach. Glaring at the King's Special, they punted the rifts on, one on either side of Tikrumpdel but if they were thinking of divide and conquer, they were most mistaken. This group of adventures had been working together long enough to be able to make a decision without speech. Jeremiah stood at the base of Tikrumpdel's neck, the sigil spinning up faster and faster, reflections of his one true god shining in its light, Ash Elf puppet on his left and vigor pack barer on his right. On Tikrumpdel's right side Quenril and his kin knelt, bolts already loaded in their bows, their targets already picked. Ulrich beside them, blades at the ready, cocksure grin on his face. Thorian anchored the left side, Estella standing beside him, the light dancing around her hands as she stood, stance wide and strong, talismans circling behind her, channeling the power. Peter reared beside her, mandibles clacking, Weatherall showing off his claws. The Bat Elves on that raft did think about it, they really did think about it but then Estella's smile became the grin of a serial killer, her eyes turning utterly and totally black. They thought better of it at that point, punting on faster, Kaelin shadowing them from above.

"Thank you," she called as the rafts disappeared into the distance, "We should do this again real soon." She waited for a few more minutes until she was sure that they would have too much trouble fighting the current to reach them easily and then she let go of the rock. The sloosh as it smacked into the water bounced back and forth across the cavern. Tired and aching she turned on a wing tip and glided back toward Tikrumpdel's broad back. She landed awkwardly and stumbled.

"Are you okay?" Estella asked as she limped along the back ridge towards them.

"Tired, sore, hungry," Kaelin admitted, "Should have dropped my pack before I tried that stunt." She sighed and sat down, slipping off her backpack and hooking the straps over one of the dorsal ridges. She dug in it for a moment and fished out travel bread and cheese. Without a word, Estella sat beside her and handed her, her own water canteen. Kaelin nodded and then drank.

"Lay down on your front," Estella advised as Kaelin finished eating and started nodding.

"What?" Kaelin asked.

"Can't you feel how warm he is?" Estella asked, laying a hand on Tikrumpdel's back. It was like touching a hot soup mug, "Lay down on your front, the heat will help loosen up those flight muscles."

Kaelin looked like she didn't believe Estella but as she'd found it more comfortable to sleep on her front now any way she did as suggested, stretching out along the dorsal ridge shuffling into a comfortable position as her eyes drifted shut. Behind her she could here the slow rip as Weatherall and Peter continued with their work of picking years, decades, centuries of dead skin build up off of Tikrumpdel's back. The work was some what grim but the steady pace of it was some what reassuring as it meant that there was nothing distracting them from their purpose of stuffing their faces.

Kaelin took a deep breath and breathed it out. With her eyes closed she listened to the ambient sounds of the cavern. She frowned slightly as she rest on Tikrumpdel's scales. They were softer than she'd expected, more like a tougher leather than hard stone. The motion of him rocking underneath her was rather soothing. Ah, that's what she could hear, it was his heart beat. It sounded like the rush of air or water in the vastness of the cavern but at fair to regular a beat to be natural. Kaelin tried to keep her ears open on her surroundings but that rhythmic sound pulled her down, the weighs on her eyes gradually pulling the rest of her lower into the darkness. His heartbeat, the warmth, the soft sponginess of his extra weigh, Kaelin couldn't remember being this comfortable in an absolute age, maybe never. It was most likely never but as she sank fully into the dark something bubbled up passed her. A woman's voice lilting a soft, gentle song.

"Go to sleep my baby,

Close your little eyes,

Angels are above you,

Watching from the skies.

Moon is slowly rising,

Stars begin to peep,

So close your eyes my baby,

Now it's time to sleep." 

 It was sausaging ridiculous but Kaelin had the weirdest sensation that it was being sung to her. She wanted to shake her head at that notion but it was too heavy to move.

 "Um Kaelin? Kaelin?" a voice was calling her name.

"What?" she grumbled.

"As far as I can make out you have been asleep for roughly ten hours and I need someone else on watch with me." It was Ulrich. It had to be Ulrich.

She sat up and yawned, stretching her jaws until they cracked. She looked around to see Estella passed out near her, while towards Tikrumpdel's tail Quenril and his kin were settling down to sleep. Tikrumpdel was still pulling himself along, hand over hand. The river was broader but more shallow here, making it more difficult for him as his belly scraped over the rock of the river bed and he had to push against the water mounting up in front of him as it fought to find a way round him.

Ulrich held out a bowl of water to her.

"That for drinking or what?" she demanded, bleary eyed and groggy.

"Its cold straight from the river," he said, "I figured that you might want to wash your face to wake up a little."

She grunted wordlessly but scooped water from the bowl. It was icy cold, making her gasp but she was more awake once she'd caught her breath.

"Better?" Ulrich asked.

"Awake," Kaelin admitted and then accepted his hand, walking with him to between Tikrumpdel's surging shoulder blades, where the original King's Special had gathered in a small huddle as their allies took their turn to sleep. Peter and Weatherall was still picking away at badly shed tissue as Marmaduke kept an eye on them.

"Aye don't think I've slept like that since we left Myslynn's fancy place," Thorian grinned as they munched cold travel rations for breakfast.

"Oh, wasn't the sleep we had while our little hosts carried us from their city good enough for you?" Jeremiah asked, alluding to their experience with the goturi.

"Nah," Thorian shook his head, "I thought I was awake the whole time. Felt like I was awake when I was dangling off that big grey thing so no, didn't feel like I slept at all while we were doing that."

"I'd agree that it wasn't the best nights sleep I've ever had," Ulrich noted, gazing round at the pillars and sculptures of drip stone. After a while he went and fetched a book from his pack. He flipped back and forth for a while until he found the section he was apparently after and then settled back to read.

For a long while there was just the quiet made of the flow of water, the drip of moisture, the breathing of the big beast upon who's back they rode. It was rather nice to just have some time to sit and watch the world go by.

"Funny taste in this water," Tikrumpdel rumbled.

"Oh? And what sort of funny taste would that be?" Jeremiah asked.

"Not sure," Tikrumpdel admitted, "It is mostly human but there is something else within it, a sort of spiciness. Definitely sage and rosemary. Onion as well but... Hum, I would say something woody, maybe willow? Not sure."

Kaelin stood up, peering ahead into the gloom.

"There!" she suddenly cried out, pointing into the gloom.

"There what?" Thorian started to his feet as well but Kaelin had already thrown herself off of his back and spread her wings. Her chest muscles burned as she took flight but she wasn't going to give up on what she had spotted laying half in and half out of the water, especially as she was sure it wasn't just a bundle of rags. She was right it wasn't.

The young woman lay half in and half out of the river, face blue with the cold but she was still breathing, a harsh, raspy sound but she was still breathing. Kaelin crouched and studied her. Her hands were a working woman's hand strong fingers with the rough skin of someone used to planting crops and harvesting autumns bounty, her feet bare and tough soled but her face was quite pretty for a working class woman, her hair thick and luxuriously black, almost blue, like a raven's wing.

Kaelin frown and move the thick locks from where they had draped over the young woman's neck. The wolf sat up and snarled but not at the young woman laying in the stream.

Someone had done their best to strangle her. The bruise was a deep blue tinted purple that wrapped nearly all the way round her neck, vivid against the paleness of her skin and Kaelin recognized the print of fingers. She wanted to find the bloke who had done this and snap every bone in his hands. She wanted to cripple him for life and then kick him out into the wide world until he understood what it felt like to be the small, powerless one who couldn't rest at night because he was always afraid of who was lurking round the corner.

She didn't. Instead she picked the young woman up in her arms and flew back across the water to Tikrumpdel, the smell of river water and pond weed filling her nostrils as the young woman's clothes dripped.

"What is that?" Tikrumpdel rumbled.

"Not food if that is what you are thinking," Kaelin said sharply to him, "It is someone who has been badly treated."

"Didn't say I was interested in them as food," Tikrumpdel pouted as he pushed on, Kaelin alighting on his back, "And I do understand that until they prove otherwise you are going to treat them as a companion."

"Well that is mighty kind of you," Thorian said.

"Oh puff," Tikrumpdel snorted and sent a stream of smoke and steam spiraling towards the ceiling, "I didn't spend all those years in  Nalblahal being deaf and blind. I do understand that small people feel the need to be with other small people and I do understand that there are different levels of attachment between small people depending on how much you trust each other to be loyal and nonthreatening and useful to each other. She is a small person and she is, at the moment, not a threat. Therefore you will care for her because she may care for you in the future. You help her for now, until she proves that she is a danger or proves that she is useless to you. That is how small people work. How hold on a minute." They did so, Ulrich calling for Marmaduke to hold on to the three Ash Elves and Estella snaking out an hand to hold on to a dorsal spine as Tikrumpdel put on a burst of speed and charged a narrow gap. He bulk rode up and over the pinch point, avoiding the necessity of being squeezed through it by riding up and over the river's banks were they came towards each other. His belly sagged and drooped through the gap and then he grabbed the stone to either side and with the rippling motion of a massive seal, hauled himself over and through to splash back into the flow.

Estella stood up and came forward as their transport settled back into his normal rhythm of motion. She stared for a moment at the woman held in Kaelin's arms.

 "Blankets!" Estella turned and started rummaging through her pack, "Kaelin, do you have any?"

"In my pack, assuming that didn't go over board a moment ago," Kaelin replied.

"Nope, on a dorsal spine," Estella started going through it as well, her own blankets draped over her arm already.

"What are you doing?" Thorian asked.

"She needs to get out of those wet clothes," Estella snapped as she pull the blanket out, "Or the cold is going to kill her. Kaelin bring her over here and lay her down." Kaelin did so. "Now hold this up so we have some privacy." She tossed Kaelin one of the blankets and she did as instructed, trying to make sure the blanket was spread as wide as possible. Thorian immediately spun round and glared at Jeremiah until the fat priest took the hint and turned his back as well. Ulrich settled back down with his book to make sure his eyes were some where decent. That and he had found a very interesting entry in the theology section of Governor Risgath's book about the Ash Elves. It seemed that they did have a trickster god, or to be more accurate, goddess. Trakamhini was the goddess of the moon and the hunt, the dance and swordplay, a beautiful maiden who tried to lure the Ash Elves to the surface with her song and encouraged them to stay there, turning their back on the strength and power of their true gods. She could possibly exactly what he needed.

Ulrich frowned, looking around as the heat below his butt increased. Tikrumpdel was sucking in breath after breath, the water around him beginning to steam as it flowed passed his sides.

"Where's the danger?" Ulrich snapped the book shut and started to stand.

"No danger," Tikrumpdel replied, "Just stoking the fires."

"Um, why?" Ulrich asked after a moment.

"The Void Dragon's host said the girl needs warmth," Tikrumpdel shrugged, nearly pitching Ulrich off balance, "I can provide warmth."

"That makes sense," Ulrich admitted, "Thank you." He sat back down and then he stood up again, patting against the seat of his trousers. Once he was sure his pants were not on fire he went to find another patch of scales were the temperature wasn't quite so high.

"Need that blanket now," Estella said to Kaelin and took it from her, folding it half to form a triangle before tucking it in around the young woman's shoulders, arranging it as a high collar around her neck and pinning it in place. Kaelin nodded as she surveyed Estella's work. One blanket to make the skirt, one to make a shoulder-less stola and now the third to make a shawl. Simple, practical and most importantly, warm. With the heat rising from the dragon below them it should beat back the chills as fast as possible. Now it was a question of just waiting and seeing what happened.

The cavern was still as massive as ever as Tikrumpdel crawled and slithered through it, echoing with the sounds of water as the light they shone broke into places that hadn't seen illumination for hundreds of years. Kaelin and Estella stayed sat with their new passenger, Thorian joining them to keep an eye on Jeremiah but the priest had returned to his seat on the base of Tikrumpdel's neck and was grandly ignoring them. Quenril and his kin were beginning to wake and stretch out before she started stirring.

The eyes that looked at them from under their thick lashes were smoky grey and full of fear. She held still, watching them all, a rabbit caught in the gaze of a predator, frozen still, waiting to see which way she should run. She watched them, waiting but as none of them  made a move towards her she started to relax a little.

"I don't blame you," Kaelin sat back against the dorsal spines at the young woman's feet, "I don't trust half of us myself."

The young woman turned her head to frown at Kaelin but Kaelin gave no sign of being upset by her scrutiny. After a while she tried to sit up but it was a struggle.

"Hup you come," Thorian smiled friendly like and reached over the dorsal ridge to put his hands under her arms and help her sit up. She tensed but Thorian let go and walked round to step over the dorsal ridge to sit down and keep an eye on her. The young woman frown and tried to speak but croaked. She coughed, a hard raking sound that rasped in her throat.

Kaelin looked away, not wanting her to see the scowl on her face and mistake it for anger at her. Kaelin's anger was reserved for the basket who had attacked her. The piece of scum had made a damn good job of it. Kaelin's knuckles cracked and she had to loosen up her grip as her claws started forcing their way out of her finger tips. If they ever met the piece of scum then he was going to have a very bad day.

"Hey, Ulrich," Thorian called, "You still have that ever full kettle thingy?"

Ulrich looked up from his book.

"I believe so," he answered, "Why?"

"Someone here needs a cup of tea," Thorian stated, standing up and walking his way over the springy surface of Tikrumpdel's back. Of all of them, Thorian seemed to have the least amount of trouble balancing on the soft and yielding surface. Ulrich wondered, as he started digging through his pack, whether it was because Thorian was used to walking on snow pack.

"I have the tea pot as well," Ulrich noted as he handed the kettle over and went back to digging for the tea caddy, "I wouldn't mind a cup myself."

"Right," Thorian grinned and fished in the bag of scolding for something.

"What you want now, sausage fingers?" the bag barked but it didn't have the furor of its earlier efforts.

"Hey mister dragon," Thorian called stepping up on to Tikrumpdel's shoulder, hooking the handle of the kettle between two of the barbs on the head of the Ice Pike, "Could we have some fire, please?"

"That depends," Tikrumpdel grinned, "Where and what is the target?"

Estella put a comforting hand on the young woman's.

"Don't worry," she smiled, "He's one of the friendly ones and we have a bargain with him. He tries to funk us over? We have control of his hoard so we can funk right back."

The young woman just stared and then frowned, lifting a hand to pat at something in the air around Estella's head. Estella frowned back.

"I felt that," she said, despite the fact that the young woman hadn't actually touched her.

"Here's the target," Thorian swung the ever pouring kettle out on the end of the ice pike so that it dangled to the right of Tikrumpdel's face. The dragon eyed it up and then sniffed.

"Dangle it closer to the surface of the water," he instructed, "If I use my flame on that directly, I'm going to melt it."

Thorian did as he was instructed, stepping out on to Tikrumpdel's floaty of a neck and hanging on to one of his horns so he could lean out further without the threat of falling in.

Tikrumpdel took another couple of breathes and then ducked his head so his mouth was just under the water and he didn't open it fully, keeping the front curve of his 'beak' overlapping his lower jaw, forcing the flame to erupt outside ways. The water boiled in an instance, the kettle riding the scolding bubbles, steaming pouring from its spout after a moment. The steam thickened as it coiled around the Ice Pike, snow and ice drops pattering on the surface of the water.

"Thank you muchly," Thorian swung the kettle back in, "Er any chance that we could have just a spoonful of that honey you have in your hoard."

Tikrumpdel sniffed as he pushed on, working against the current.

"Ark, I only kept it to have something in my hoard so you can have one of the small barrels," he allowed at last, "BUT you owe me something in return. When you find something shiny on your travels you owe it to me, got it?"

"Absolutely," Thorian beamed and nodded swinging back to where Ulrich had already crumbled tea leaves into the pot. Watching them, Estella suddenly held up a finger before scrabbling in her bag to find a smallish, yellow fruit.

"Here," she called getting up and walking over to the tea making crew, "Try this as well." She cut the lemon in half with her talisman carving knife and squeezed it into each of the tea cups.

"There, lemon and honey tea," she smiled as she help hand out the cups, "A good medicine for sore throats."

The young woman watched them all cautiously and started drinking her tea last, her careful grey eyes assessing them but there was a consideration of trust in those eyes as she sipped her teeth and double checked her improvised clothes. She looked around and Estella smiled knowingly, pointing to where she'd spread out the young woman's clothes on Tikrumpdel's back. The cloth was steaming slightly.

"Hum, thank you," the young woman said, her voice low and husky, "I don't know you but thank you."

"Kaelin saved you," Thorian nodded to Kaelin, "The rest of us are just helping out this time."

Kaelin shrugged at the woman's questioning stare, shuffling uncomfortably, aware that she had the feeling that the young woman could see the wolf in her.

"Seemed the right thing to do," she said, looking move at her tea cup, "Especially after I saw..." she indicated her own neck and the young woman lifted a hand to her injury, her face coloring with shame.

"My own family ain't exactly great," Kaelin admitted, "So I don't like leaving others in that mess."

"I'm Thorian," Thorian introduced himself after waiting for Kaelin to say more, filling in when that didn't happen, "That's Estella, a sort of friend of ours. You might meet her other friend later."

The young woman looked at Estella again and patted the air near her head again.

"I felt that," Valodrael rumbled in Estella's mind, causing Estella's eyes to go wide.

"He's Ulrich," Thorian  jabbed a thumb towards Ulrich, who had his nose back in his book again, where he was leaning against Tikrumpdel's right wing.

"I hope you don't think I'm rude, good lady," Ulrich looked up from the page he was studying, "But having had what I think to be a reasonable guess at your recent history, I figured that you would be more comfortable if you were not crowded by a whole group of men."

She looked down and blushed again.

"He's my buddy," Thorian grinned, "We have a competition at the moment and he's a little sour because I am leading."

"I beg your pardon," Ulrich frowned, "You are doing no such thing."

"Am too," Thorian insisted.

"Am not," Ulrich stated levelly.

"Um," Tasnar put a finger on his chin with a sly smile, "The Matriarch's Favorite seems to have a dispute with the orc's child. What say you? Shall we keep count?"

"Our money would have to go on the Matriarch's Favorite," Quenril observed quietly.

"The orc child," Sabal stated.

"Excuse me," Ulrich asked.

"I'm putting my money on the orc child," Sabal repeated, "After all, you are trying to teach us that we need not live our lives in fear and hatred, are you not? There for I put my money on the orc children. Or did you mean that we could live without fear and hatred except for you?"

Ulrich deadpanned him for a long minute and then he laughed.

"Alright," he grinned, "I'll just have to make you lose that money."

"As the Matriarch's Favorite wishes," Sabal smiled back with a smaller, more dignified smile.

 "And he's Jeremiah," Thorian pointed at Jeremiah, "He can be... persuading so be careful around him but his mind don't affect me."

"You can affect something that isn't there," Jeremiah observed over his shoulder, not joining their little group, not even for the tea.

"I'm," the young woman cleared her throat, "I'm Alina."

"Alina?" Thorian asked, "That's a beautiful name but don't talk to much. Who ever did that made a right mess of your throat."

Alina put a hand up to her throat and then looked down, shame stamping its way across her features, her grey eyes going dark.

"It's alright," Thorian said, "I know you're a long way from home and we're strangers but the only way you could have got down here is by the river and we're heading back up that way so sooner or later we'll get you home. Oh and when we get there, if you'd like to point out who did that to you, we'll take care of them." He made a fist and cracked his knuckles.

Alina smiled a little at that, not much but a little.

"Let's just say our friends have a dim view of people who pick on those who can't fight back," Estella smiled and patted Alina's hand.

"To do ought else is to the height of bad form," Ulrich noted, "Not the behavior of a gentleman at all. Uncouth plebians like that deserve to be both disciplined and educated as to the error of their ways."

Alina smiled more at that.