The universe loves toying with me sometimes. I was doing my best to ignore all the fit – if furry – bodies around me, and then they invited us to visit the group baths, the one luxury Spurhorn had, fed by underground hot springs.. Well, “When in Rome” and all that. Of course I was going to the baths.
We just had to figure out what to do with Terry. I guess it wasn’t too much of a big deal, since while the baths had two separate pools for men and women, it’s not like there was any sight divider. But still, it was a little weird.
In the end, Terry begged off of coming with us, saying he didn’t feel comfortable being naked in a room full of strangers while wearing his daughter’s body. Can’t say I blamed him. He and one of our handlers went off to the guest quarters while the rest of us continued on. I think he was trying to get the Triaxian to teach him more words in the language of dragons. He’d picked up a bit here and there from Burin and me, but he definitely needed practice before he’d be able string together coherent sentences.
The baths used the Japanese style, where you cleansed yourself first, then got in. Naturally, I used magic to clean myself and skipped right to the nice hot soak, after getting the okay from our handlers, who were still following us everywhere.
There was a group of young women just staring at me, or at least, trying to pretend they weren’t staring at me. “I know I look good,” I said to Bescaylie, “but if they’re gonna stare, the least they could do is come say hello. I don’t bite. Not hard, and not unless they ask nicely, anyway.”
“I’ll go talk to them,” she said.
A few moments later, the young women – fairly new recruits, apparently – came over. “Hello girls,” I said. “How are you doing?”
“A-Are you summerborn?” one of the girls asked shyly.
“What? Oh, right, the seasons thing. No, I’m not summerborn.”
“Then what happened to your fur?” another girl asked.
“I don’t have any. Just the hair on my head, my eyebrows and my eyelashes.” It drove the girls in my school crazy when they learned that I didn’t have to shave my legs. Most of them were complete bitches anyway, so I took a little joy in holding that over their heads.
“Don’t you get cold?” a third asked.
“Not really,” I told her. “Though, I’m not normal as a representative of my people in that regard.” Now it was time to satisfy my own curiosity. “Tell me more about the seasons here. I’ve learned a little bit, but is it really true that the winters here last through multiple generations?”
“Oh, yes,” the second young woman said. “Aside from the dragons, I doubt you’d be able to find anyone who remembers even the transitional period, much less last summer.”
“I see. And are all the dragons your enemies?” Naturally, the dragonkin seemed to take both sides, but I wasn’t talking about them.
“There are a few dragons remaining on our side. Back in the age of heroes, there were more, but most of them have long since died.”
I nodded. “On the world where I come from, there are no dragons. They’ve been dead for hundreds of years at least, aside from one lone survivor who woke from hibernation and forced us to kill him.”
“No dragons?” the first girl asked. “Your world must be a paradise for you and your dragonkin.”
I gave a wry smile. “No dragonkin either. And sadly, it’s not exactly a paradise right now. People from another world have invaded and are attacking us. The worst part is that when it started, I was visiting my mother’s home world – the world my companions come from – and got stranded there.”
“Then how did you get here?” the second girl asked.
“We’re tracking down an ancient witch who might be able to stop her daughter from enslaving the world of Golarion. And the witch’s magic hut brought us here.”
The girls listened to my story with rapt attention. Meanwhile, I noticed a strange old Triaxian over in the men’s baths talking with Burin excitedly. From the look on the dwarf’s face, he seemed confused by what the old man was saying.
Next, the girls had to know all about my tattoo. I stood up to let them get a good look, smirking as I noticed several of the men were looking as well, though perhaps a bit higher. After we got dressed, I’d have to get my collapsible hula hoop out and give them a show.
Speaking of shows, Gregor was putting on a show of his own. Apparently one of the young soldiers had challenged him to some kind of physical combat. They seemed to be grappling, trying to make the other bend to their knees. It was obvious that Gregor had the upper hand.
“Sorry about my friend over there,” I said to the women around me.
“Oh, that?” one of them answered after taking a look. “Don’t worry about it. The men do that all the time.”
Fair enough. As long as he wasn’t about to get us into trouble. I don’t know why, but I liked these people. I would hate for them to be mad at us.
After the bath, I got dressed and showed my stuff with the hula hoop, and the girls were all eager to give it a try. So much so that I had to have Cortana make us several basic plastic hula hoops just so everyone could get a try. I would like to note appreciatively that Triaxian girls jiggle in all the right places just like human women do.
Several men tried as well, though they didn’t jiggle, so practically not worth noting at all.
When we got back to our rooms, we found Terry chatting with the Triaxian handler. He’d made a lot of progress in learning the language, and now seemed comfortable holding a conversation, if it did stutter at times as he sought for the right word or tried to understand a word he didn’t understand.
After our handlers left, Terry began working on something. “What’s that?” I asked.
He held up the feathers he’d taken from the crows and some strips of silk string. “I’m working on a necklace for Emily.” Aww.
In the morning, we were brought before the council we’d been told about. The council was held in what appeared to be some kind of courtroom-like chamber. Ten officers, including Commander Pharamol and his partner, the gold dragonkin Amarenth, sat behind a semi-circular desk upon a raised dais. We entered past rows of benches, taking a seat at a table in the center of the room. Bescaylie and Efrixes joined us.
“Pharamol tells us that you wish to help us,” said Herjan, the black dragonkin two seats to Pharamol’s right. “That seems convenient. Why should we believe you?” Nebula translated as he spoke.
I nodded. “I can understand that you might be unwilling to trust us. You don’t know us. And it would be very convenient for us to show up and offer help when you need it most. But the truth is that we didn’t come here seeking to help you. We’re here to obtain a two-headed eagle. In exchange for it, we’re willing to help you fight off your foes for a reasonable time, and maybe even help you break the siege if we can. But if you can’t trust us, then name another price, and we’ll make the trade and leave. That said, from what we’ve seen outside, we suspect that you could really use all the help you can get, and thus, the offer still stands.”
Burin stood. “Right. We’ve met many good people here since we arrived. Besides, you might need us if the enemy brings torches.”
Apparently, someone had briefed the council on Burin, and they let the torch comment pass without a response. “I’m convinced of your intention,” said the oldest Triaxian present, a balding man whose name I learned was Thronull. I also learned that he was in charge of the crossbowmen. “But tell me, can you back up your words with action? Can you prove that your words are more than mere words?”
Gregor stood up and spoke in a mixture of Taldan and Triaxian – apparently Terry wasn’t the only one who had been practicing languages the previous night. “We have already given you a display, when Terry and I snuck into your enemy’s encampment, where we tied fluffy-fluffy to your foes’ pack animals and created mass chaos in their ranks,” Nebula said as she translated him word for word.
“Fluffy-fluffy?” I heard several of the council members whisper in confusion. Gregor might need to work a bit harder. It wasn’t the only wrong word he used, but it was certainly the silliest.
“That isn’t working,” Terry whispered to him. “Try showing them your collection.”
The fighter’s eyes lit up in comprehension. “I apologize,” Gregor said, “if some of what I said was strange. I am new to your language. If that was not enough to convince you of our strength, then let me show you these. I have taken them from the foes we have slain.”
Gregor reached into his bag and began drawing out the numerous skins he’d taken throughout our adventure, tossing them in a pile. It started small, and grew continuously, from animals to trolls to frost giants, until finally ending with the hide of Logrivich, the white dragon from the clock tower. About halfway through, Terry pulled out his hamster-fur cloak and tossed it on the pile.
The skin of the dragon caused the room to erupt in commotion. Eventually, Pharamol managed to restore order. “Is that the skin of a dragon?” the dragon rider Zusk, bond-mate of Herjan asked.
“Yes,” Gregor answered. “He was young, but we were not nearly as strong then as we are now. If you want people who can kill enemies led by dragons, then I say to you that we have demonstrably killed dragons before.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the great doors to the chamber burst open and in came the old man Burin had been talking to in the baths. “I’ve found it!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement. In his hands were several books and a large scroll case.
“Found what?” Pharamol asked.
The old Triaxian set the books down on our table with a loud thud. “The records of the Dragonfoe,” he said triumphantly as he opened the scroll case.
“We all know the story,” the blue dragonkin Nevra said. “But what does it have to do with our business here?”
“Who is this ‘Dragonfoe’?” Terry asked Bescaylie with a whisper.
The old man overheard him and answered instead. “The Dragonfoe is one of our greatest heroes,” he said. “During the age when the dragons appeared, he and his companions also appeared. They were creatures from another world, much like you. They came here hunting a great dragon, who they said came here from their world. They eventually caught him and slew him upon a great mountain, though in truth, which mountain it was has been lost to history.”
“Interesting,” I said. “So others have come here before to aid you against the dragons?”
“Yes. And the Dragonfoe did not stop just at the dragon he sought to end. He and his companions slew a dozen other dragons to aid our people. I dare say that without them, we may never have been able to contain the dragons in the first place.”
“He sounds like a good person,” Burin commented. “It’s too bad we never heard about his exploits back home on Golarion.”
“You may know him better than you think,” the old man said, unfurling the painting that had been within the scroll case. He laid it down on the table, for all to see.
We were stunned to silence for several moments as we gawked at the sight. “Uh, Burin,” Gregor finally said, breaking the silence, “is there perhaps something you wish to tell us?”
Burin studied the painting carefully. “That’s… yes, they’re all there! That’s the first Burin! Those are his companions! This must have been drawn after they slew the old dragon, when Burin was cursed by the –“ I kicked him under the table. No need to mention the demon at this point. “Right. Well, after he was cursed. They said that the mountain where he slew the dragon was far, far away, but I’d always assumed they just didn’t want us to go find it. I never imagined that it was on another world!” We then lost all possibility of holding his attention as he continued staring raptly at the portrait.
“Well,” said the older female Triaxian on the council. “I can think of no clearer portent than this. Turning them away would not be in our best interests, I’m afraid.”
“Right,” Pharamol said. “If the descendant of the Dragonfoe himself wishes to aid us, then I do not believe we can refuse. Any objections?” There were none. “So be it. We welcome your help, all of you. If you can fight nearly as well as your ancestor, then there may be hope for the Skyfire Mandate.”
After chatting with the council for a bit, we set to work implementing our various plans, but not in the scale we’d hoped. Spurhorn simply didn’t have the resources. Burin had envisioned dozens of powder bombs, but we ended up with three. Gregor had planned on multiple vats of boiling oil and pitch, but we managed to scrape together one. Both would be nasty surprises for the enemy, but they would likely give the sieging army a bloody nose, not turn the tide in a meaningful way.
The same was true with the guns Terry wanted. He had hoped for at least six of the heavy machine guns that Cortana could make, the ones Daddy calls ‘Tremolos’. But what he got was two of the lighter guns, the ‘Crescendos’. At least we were able to make enough ammunition for them, as well as molds so that the defenders of Spurhorn would be able to continue using them even after we were gone, thanks to the magic batteries that powered them.
We went to bed early that day, which was good, since we were awoken in the early morning with the warning that scouts suspected that the enemies were preparing an assault and would likely strike in a couple hours. After Burin and I prepared our spells, we all headed to meet with the commander.
“I need you to make a final check on your guns,” Pharamol told us. “After you’re done there, I’ll try to have another job for you. But if you see anywhere that you think needs reinforcement, please use your best judgment.”
“You can count on us,” Burin answered.
“This will be a good fight,” Gregor said, in functional if not elegant Triaxian. “Many of your enemies will die today.”
“Hopefully not too many of our friends,” Pharamol answered.
As we approached the rampart where the guns were stationed, we heard them fire a few times before being cut off. Worried, we rushed up the stairs to the landing below. And we were right to worry.
A frost drake had taken up position atop the tower that overlooked the stairs. From where we were, we could see the frozen solid form of one of the defenders. “I’m going up to the guns!” Burin said, rushing up the stairs.
“The drake is mine!” Gregor roared as he charged and then disappeared, reappearing up on the tower. “Have at you!” he shouted as he punched the dragon in the snout.
Terry took off after Burin, and I flew up into the air to peek at what was going on. What I saw wasn’t good. Every defender was either dead or frozen solid – which most likely also meant dead, but we had a potential chance to save them – and a pair of invading barbarians was trying to destroy the machine guns.
“They’re attacking the guns!” I shouted to Terry and Burin.
Burin engaged the closest foe and Terry shot at the further one. I unleashed some force bolts to aid Burin, since I knew that the “Machine of Death” would make quick work of his foe. But the opening volley hadn’t been enough.
The barbarian charged Terry and was just about to strike when Gregor whipped the bladed hat from his head, spun around and flung it. In the same motion, he delivered a pair of powerful kicks to the dragon, snapping its neck and sending it plummeting off the tower to the landing below. The hat slashed the barbarian’s neck and bounced off. Gregor caught it as he landed from the kick in a three-point landing.
Show off.
“There are more coming!” Burin called out. He was right. There were several more drakes flying through the sky. “Terry, get to the machine gun! I can handle this guy.”
“Right!” Terry answered, rushing over.
Gregor teleported over to Burin, helping him finish off his foe. “Help Terry out,” Gregor said to the dwarf.
Burin nodded and took hold of the gun. He aimed carefully and gave the trigger a squeeze just as Terry reached the other gun and did the same. As they unleashed hot lead into the sky, Terry crowed with glee. “I HAVE GOT TO GET ONE OF THESE!”
Drake after drake fell from the sky. I counted fifteen in all before the rest retreated out of range. Once that was over, we quickly tied to help those poor souls who had been frozen. Of the entire platoon stationed up there, only two men survived, and they were in no condition to fight.
“We’ll be fine here,” Gregor said to me. “Let Pharamol know this position needs reinforcement.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I told him, flying off. True to my word, I returned a few minutes later. True to Gregor’s, the position held. And true to Pharamol’s, nine soldiers arrived fortify the position less than ten minutes later.
We continued like that for over an hour, moving around and helping to reinforce areas where the enemy was mustering in force. At one point, Burin actually managed to scare off a frost drake by throwing a torch at it, to my surprise and to all of our amusement.
Shortly before dawn, we received word that we were urgently needed at the front wall. So we headed there as quickly as possible. And they hadn’t been kidding. We really were needed.
A pair of massive hydras was pushing an even more massive siege tower up the wall. If that thing reached the fortress, it could very well have spelled game over. As we took in the sight, we were hit by the icy breath from a pair of frost drakes that was escorting the tower.
“Burin! Let’s take the tower,” Gregor said as he leapt off of the wall and activated his magic boots, causing him to transform into a frost giant as he hit the ground.
“Right!” the dwarf agreed, before leaping after him and enlarging as well.
The tower was covered in wet hides, so Terry and I focused on the drakes, Terry with flaming bullets and me with beams of fire. A fireball would have been overkill, and there was no telling whether we’d have time to rest and recover spells for days, so I had to conserve my magic for when it was really needed.
“We have to knock it over!” Burin shouted.
“On it!” Gregor answered, leaping into the sky and slamming into the upper part of the tower with his shoulder. His impact caused the wood to creak and splinter, and the entire tower began tilting back towards the hydras. But it had reached equilibrium. The hydras would be able to right it if no one acted quickly. “Burin!” Gregor shouted. “DIG!”
Burin laughed with dark delight as he tossed aside his axe and pulled his shovel from the sheath on his back. He charged forward and used the shovel as a lever, tilting the tower further, beyond the hydras’ ability to correct.
The tower crushed one of the hydras outright, but the other wasn’t out of the woods yet. You see, they were chained to the tower, and when it began sliding down the steep slope, it began dragging the terrified hydra and the corpse of its companion with it.
Terry took pity on the living hydra and put it out of its misery with a volley of gunfire. He then hit the underside of the sliding tower with a few fire bullets, causing it to begin smoldering. It didn’t seem like it would catch fire, but the smoke would probably be helpful in causing a bit of disarray, assuming hundreds of soldiers fleeing in panic from the sliding tower didn’t cause enough disarray on its own.
We got everyone back inside the walls and continued fighting off and on for several more hours before anything interesting happened. We were heading to the keep to talk with Pharamol when we spotted a red enemy dragonkin flying above the keep’s garden. So we rushed in to go deal with it.
We reached the gate to the garden, and Terry opened the gate and shot at the dragonkin. Then Gregor rushed in and Burin after. Finally, I followed, stopping in my tracks when I heard Burin shout for us to be careful.
Peeking inside, I saw that a number of Spurhorn defenders appeared to have been turned to stone. Either that or someone had really poor taste in statues and had commissioned several statues of Triaxians recoiling in fear. I scanned quickly and spotted a pair of half-dragon, half-basilisks – known as dracolisks – at the far side of the room.
Standing next to one of them was Gregor, turned to stone mid-punch.
I fought the urge to panic, remembering that we could cure the condition by spreading the blood of a fallen basilisk on its victim. So I just needed to kill them before they could get close enough to turn me to stone.
I also realized that being stone would protect Gregor and the others from fire, at least to a decent degree. So I didn’t have to worry about control. I just had to worry about power. So I unleashed the strongest fireball I’ve ever created.
The dracolisks never stood a chance.
Meanwhile, Terry was dealing with the dragonkin. “You should run while you have the chance!” he shouted to our enemy. “If you don’t we’ll be forced to burn you to a crisp!”
“You’ll burn me?” the dragonkin said with a laugh. It swooped down and hit Terry and the nearby Burin with its flaming breath.
“Can’t say I didn’t try,” Terry said, ignoring the flame. He shot several rounds directly into the skull of the dragonkin, who crashed to the ground. He walked over and kicked it. “Who’s laughing now, tough guy?” he asked.
“I don’t hear you laughing, though,” Burin said.
“Now’s not the time for this routine,” I interjected, cutting off Terry’s retort. “We need to spread some of the blood from the dracolisks on Gregor and the other statues.”
“Machine of death,” Terry said anyway, sticking his tongue out at Burin. But they quickly got to work helping me with the others.
In a few minutes, everyone was back to normal, aside from a few up on the walls that had been killed by the dragon’s breath, anyway. Once things were secure once more, we headed up to meet with Pharamol. Gregor was obviously trying not to think about what it was like being turned to stone.
Pharamol told us that it was clear that the enemy’s attacks were just probing measures, trying to wear us out. He expected a greater push soon, and told us he needed us ready. So we did as he said and took a bit of time to rest and grab a bit to eat.
As we were heading back to the walls, near mid-afternoon, a large wave came, likely a precursor to the final push. There was fighting everywhere. We rushed to help, but on the way, we spotted an allied silver dragonkin fighting a trio of enemy dragonkin in the skies above.
Before we could do anything, the enemy gold dragonkin hit him with its flame breath and the enemy blue slammed into him, driving him to the ground. “We have to help!” Burin said. We all agreed, so we quickly rounded the corner of the building to get to him.
The three enemy dragonkin had taken up positions around the silver, and the blue was drawing his glaive, preparing to strike the finishing blow. Terry lined up his shot and fired several rounds, hitting center mass with ferocity. Gregor and Burin charged the other dragonkin and began engaging them.
The blue, realizing the extent of its wounds, tried to escape, but Terry blew it out of the sky. Meanwhile, Gregor was flanked by the remaining two dragonkin, but it was obvious that he and Burin had it under control, so Terry and I rushed to aid the fallen silver dragonkin.
Terry beat me over there since I was forced to dodge the blast of fire the gold launched at Burin. He drew out the nanite gun and quickly injected the fallen silver. The silver began stirring. “That’s right!” Terry said. “This is no time for dying, soldier!”
“Are they gone?” the silver asked as I landed next to them.
I turned and watched as Burin buried his axe in the gold’s chest while Gregor kicked it in the head, snapping its neck. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that’s the end of them.” I pulled out my wand and continued healing the silver’s wounds.
“You have my thanks,” the silver said. “Both of you. Without your aid, I surely would have died.”
“Thank Terry,” I said. “He was the one who killed the blue and rushed to your aid fastest.”
“Thank you, Terry,” the silver said. “I am known as Shatha, and I am in your debt.”
“Don’t mention it,” Terry said, actually looking embarrassed as we helped pull Shatha to his feet.
As he reached his feet, Shatha made a choking sound. “What is he doing?” he asked.
I turned and spotted Gregor skinning the gold. “Sorry,” I said. “He does that.”
“It is most disturbing.”
“If you think that’s disturbing, you should try spending time with the dwarf,” Terry said.
“I believe I shall avoid it,” Shatha said. “I thank you again. I must return to combat. I got separated from my unit. They may need me.”
“Right,” I said. “We need to get back to the fight, ourselves. Take care, Shatha.”
“You as well.” Then he flew into the air.
We waited a couple moments for Gregor to finish claiming his prize, then began making our way to the wall once more. We were almost there when a dragonkin and its rider stopped us. “Please hurry, Pharamol wants you at the gate.”
“What’s wrong?” Burin asked.
“We’re not sure. Something strange is happening in the enemy camp.”
We rushed to the gate, where we found Pharamol up atop the wall. “What’s going on?” Gregor asked.
“I am uncertain. They were massing for a final push, then that massive fog bank appeared out of nowhere,” he pointed to the center of the camp, which was indeed shrouded in mist. “And suddenly the charge stopped. I can’t tell what’s going on.”
Before we could speculate, black lightning arced out of the fog and then back inside. Several tendrils continued this pattern, until the fog looked like an angry storm cloud.
“I don’t like the looks of that,” Burin said.
“It does not bode well,” Gregor agreed.
“Terry, can you see inside?” I asked.
“How would I be able to see insi- OH! Right.” He drew up his hood and his eyes began to glow blue. He stared for a moment, the enchantment allowing him to pierce the fog. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed.
“What?” I asked. But I wasn’t at all prepared for the words that came out of his mouth next.
“I- I think that’s Segrit!”
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