A Dragon's Tale Ch. 42

"Speaking of amazing, take us in honey." He told the Fey as he released her, and then activated his disguise gem since they would be entering a new town.

"Yes Master." She nodded, only a bit of trepidation in her tone.

Taloni went to the quarterdeck where Anthiel stepped aside for her, and the Fey issued the orders necessary to bring the airship into the dock. She did it even more confidently than when they left Gralden, though she still said "please" whenever she issued an order. Anthiel watched the entire time, saying nothing until Serif and Raklan had finished tying the Argo to the dock.

"Well done Taloni." The high elf said proudly. "You are becoming an excellent airship pilot."

The Fey beamed.

Ethan walked up to the quarterdeck and kissed her deeply, speaking only when he had left her breathless. "I'm really proud of you honey."

The honey-blonde had a dreamy, contented expression on her face as she replied in a similarly dreamy tone. "Mmm, thank you Master."

"Come on, time to go." He led the way over to the gangplank, which the two crewmen had just deployed, and walked onto the dock followed by his wives and Selene. There was no one on the dock, which wasn't that surprising considering the rain.

"Ladies." He stopped and summoned his sword in its scabbard, then turned back to them. "Run to the hold and get those swords that the wood elf king gave us. If we run into orcs, I want to be ready."

All of his wives except Taloni immediately headed in that direction.

"Master, must I wear a sword? I don't know how to use one, and I don't want to."

He frowned, tapping his clawed foot on the wooden decking of the dock. He could see Taloni doing more harm than good with a sword, not to mention how she would feel if she ever actually had to use one on somebody. He thought even Beth would be okay, especially with how tough she'd become since the recent visit to Gralden.

"Okay, but only because you can fly." He finally said. "But you'll fly straight back to the Argo if we see any hint of trouble; understand?"

"Yes Master, thank you." She smiled.

Not long after, his wives and Selene returned wearing arming swords, and Rachel had her mage's staff in hand too. Selene was adjusting something leather on both her forearms; apparently Alana had finished her strength-enhancing vambraces. The wood elf was also carrying his... wait, that wasn't his armor backpack. It was a near solid chunk of white, but looked like it was composed of all his armor pieces.

"Is that my armor?" He asked.

The wood elf nodded. "I gave it a variant of the self-summoning spell, so if you detach your armor from yourself it will reform into this, and you can attach it to your back with the same hard points as your backpack."

"I remember you saying something about that, thanks." He fastened it to his back and -- since he already had his war sword at his side -- he led the way down the shallow ramp and towards the town. He set a slow pace since the rain and wet wood were making the ramp slippery. Well, slippery for the others; he had claws. Not that anyone besides his wives could see that with his disguise gem activated.

They walked down the ramp and towards a small shack near the bottom. It looked like some kind of guard shack, but it appeared to be empty.

"Where should we go Master?"

He looked around, not sure. "Well, I guess we'll just pick a direction and start walking."

The town didn't look like it had been planned very well. The streets were winding and bending, and there was no semblance of order to the layout. He walked for a minute, but didn't see anyone to talk to. The town clearly wasn't deserted as he could see signs of life everywhere, but it looked like almost everyone was inside their somewhat rundown wooden houses; probably because of the rain.

They sloshed through the wet and muddy streets for a minute before hearing the sounds of music coming from a slightly larger building. He headed towards it with the ladies in tow.

It looked like a tavern.

Judging from the outside, it was a small, inexpensive tavern that had seen better days. Like almost everything in Ivernia, it looked well-care for but was still wearing out for lack of resources. He shook his head, his dislike of Lord Farbrottan and the corrupt Reeves increasing by the moment.

"Come on." He stepped up to the door and pushed it open.

The inside was like the outside; well taken care of but past its prime. There were perhaps a dozen men in there, all nursing a drink of some kind or another. In the corner there was a fellow who was playing an instrument that closely resembled a piano, though with minor differences. Something about it reminded him of a few saloons he'd seen in western movies.

At the door's opening, everyone glanced his way, then did a double-take.

He supposed it must look weird; a thoroughly average looking fellow leading six beautiful women into a tavern. All of them were armed except for Taloni, though she had wings, plus Selene was an absolute knockout even with her hair soaked through. Maybe especially with her hair soaked through.

"Hi." Ethan waved his hand.

"What can I get for you stranger?" The man behind the bar asked genially.

"Information mostly." He replied.

*Ethan, order some beer.* Kendra thought to everyone in an urgent tone. *Trust me.*

"But I wouldn't say no to some beer first if you have it." Ethan added, then thought to her. *Thanks.*

"Long as you got coppers, I've got beer." The barman replied with a smile.

"That I do." Ethan walked over to the bar as every man in the place looked at the ladies. He was somewhat reassured that the looks were more of admiration and disbelief than lustful.

Rachel surreptitiously slipped him a copper from the ship's treasury, which she usually carried, and he dropped it on the bar. The bartender took it, poured some beer from a wooden barrel, and then set the flagon down in front of him.

"Thanks." He took a sip. He didn't usually like beer, but this wasn't too bad.

"You all some kind of mercenary outfit or something?" A fellow sitting at the bar asked. He had a full beard and looked like a shrewd type; not nefarious, just shrewd.

"Not mercenary, but I hear you have a problem with orcs." Ethan replied, then took another sip.

"Them there are elven swords." Another man said, gesturing to the scabbards holding the arming swords that all the ladies were wearing. The scabbards weren't ornate, but they did have an unmistakably elven design aesthetic.

"They are." Ethan nodded, seeing no reason to deny the obvious.

The shrewd fellow at the bar scrutinized the newcomers, then Ethan's own sword. "I know steel. See here, my father was a blacksmith and I've been mining iron most of my life. That there isn't regular steel. Unless I miss my guess, that there is dragon steel."

All eyes in the tavern moved to the hilt of Ethan's sword.

"And them there ladies." The shrewd man continued. "That's a wood elf in a green dress, a human in a blue one, and a Fey wearing a lilac dress, and another human in a red dress. Not sure about them other two though." He stroked his beard. "Plus, there's that there dragon steel sword."

"Is that white armor?" Someone said from behind him, scrutinizing his armor pack.

"It's the prophet." Someone whispered in awe. "The rumors say he uses a disguise gem so he doesn't frighten the faithful."

Seeing no reason to deny what they had clearly worked out, he nodded. "I actually use the disguise gem so I don't get a panicked reaction from guards."

Suddenly, the bartender batted Ethan's flagon off the bar. "The prophet of Illuminar won't be drinking that--" He finished the sentence in some language that Ethan didn't recognize. The barman pulled an expensive looking bottle from behind the bar and held it high. "He drinks the best whiskey in the house!"

The tavern patrons erupted in a loud cheer.

"I'm actually not a fan of whiskey, but thanks." Ethan said, not wanting the man to waste what looked to be a very expensive bottle.

"You said you're here about the orcs." The shrewd man said. "Did Pegger find you?"

"Pegger?" Ethan raised his eyebrow.

"That's what we call him; he has a pegged-leg and went looking for you."

"He did find me." Ethan replied. "And I found you. So, who should I talk to about helping with the orcs?"

"That'll be Grindle." The barkeep said. "He owns the mine."

"That sort of makes him the de facto mayor of this here town." The shrewd fellow added.

"Where might I find him?" Ethan asked.

"The large house over yonder." The barkeep said, pointing in a direction. "He's good people, and has had a rough go of it."

"Alright." He nodded and stood up. "I'll go see him then."

"Could you turn the disguise gem off?" One of the men sitting at a table asked. "I'd like to be able to say I saw the prophet in his true form."

"Sure." Ethan shrugged then clicked the disguise gem off. There was a collective intake of breath, a moment of stunned silence, then applause.

He smiled nervously back at them.

"Thank you for coming Mr. Ejder sir." The shrewd man said. "We've been needing your help here something fierce."

"I'll do what I can." Ethan replied. "I'm not sure how much it'll be, but I'll try."

"Illuminar is with you; there's nothing you can't do if you believe." The barkeep said with conviction.

"Uh, thanks." He nodded, then glanced at the ladies who were looking at him with various levels of admiration and amusement.

"Ladies." He said, then nodded his head in the direction of the door.

"You have some mighty fine wives there." The barman said with a respectful nod to the ladies. "I'd keep them far from the mines; them damn animals don't make no distinction between the menfolk and the womenfolk."

"Noted, thanks." He replied, then glanced at his wives, especially Kendra. "And they're even more wonderful than they look, which is saying something."

As one, every man in the tavern raised his glass.

"To the prophet's wives!" The shrewd man called.

"Huzzah!" The rest said, then they all took a swig.

The ladies blushed, Kendra especially.

"Amen." Ethan grinned, then reactivated the disguise gem before departing the tavern.

* * *

Selene had felt a strange rush of cheerfulness and hope when Ethan had been revealed, which was weird. The sense of cheerfulness and hope decreased in strength as she followed the other ladies out the door, and disappeared once she was not far from the tavern.

Again, weird.

She followed with the others as Ethan headed in the direction that the barman had pointed, and it wasn't hard to see what he meant by 'large house over yonder'. The 'large house' was indeed larger than the houses around it, but that didn't make it large. On the contrary, it would be considered a small house back home.

Selene started to feel rather haggard as they approached it, like her limbs didn't want to move properly for lack of motivation. It wasn't hard to push through the feeling and keep moving, but it was weird that she felt that way in the first place. She started feeling it even more as they walked up to the door.

Ethan knocked several times.

No answer.

He knocked again, and Selene heard a feminine voice from inside. "I'm coming."

There was a brief pause and then the door opened to reveal an extremely haggard looking woman. She looked to be about fifty, but something told Selene that the woman looked a lot older than she actually was. Her salt-and-pepper hair was tied back, but a large number of strands had worked loose and they were 'frizzing'. Her clothes were clean, but rumpled and patched in more than one place.

"Who died this time?" She asked like she carried the weight of the world as she opened the door. "And why in Saidow's lair didn't I hear the orc horn when..." She trailed off as she saw them. Her eyes went from one to another as she scrutinized them.

Selene felt a mixture of emotions inside herself, and they seemed to cycle rapidly.

Confusion first, then apprehension as the woman looked them over, then a sense of dawning comprehension as the woman looked at each of the girl's dresses. That was followed by a sense of awe and wonder as the woman's eyes went wide. Then the Brazilian woman felt shock as the woman covered her mouth with her hand.

It made no sense for Selene to feel those emotions, but it made a lot of sense for the woman to feel them. So then why was she herself feeling...?

Unless...

No.

That was an outlandish idea. Completely and totally outlandish and simply impossible. Although, it did make sense...

"You..." The woman finally gasped. "You're the prophet of Illuminar."

Ethan nodded. "I heard that you all need help down here."

"Oh thank Illuminar!" She gushed.

Suddenly, Selene felt a sense of hopefulness that she hadn't felt in... well, ever. It was even greater than what she'd felt at the tavern.

Okay, that was weird.

There was only one explanation that she could think of, but it seemed too far-fetched and outlandish to consider. On the other hand, she was following a dragon who was married to five women, including a wood elf, a woman who could astral project, a Fey, a mage, and a former dragon huntress. Maybe she needed to reassess what qualified as 'far-fetched and outlandish'.

Plus, it was the only explanation that made sense...

"Come in, come in." The woman said moving aside. "Don't stand out there getting soaked to your bones."

They entered and the inside of the house looked much like the inside of the tavern; it was worn with age, but well-cared for with limited resources. It was more homey than the tavern though, and the sparse decorations seemed to be made from repurposed items. It reminded her of some houses she'd seen in western movies for some reason, but she couldn't quite pinpoint why.

The woman turned and yelled into the house. "Horacio, you'll want to see this."

Moments later, a bit of that haggard feeling returned as footsteps approached and a man came around a corner. He looked like he was in his sixties, but he was probably closer to forty. Very little of a dark color remained in his sea of mostly gray hair. His beard was mostly days-old stubble, and he looked somewhat thin and haggard as well. He looked like he desperately needed a long nap; they both did.

"Who died this time?" He said heavy as he entered the room. "And why the fuck didn't I hear the orc horns if there was an attack on..." He trailed off as he saw Ethan's party.

Selene felt a similar cycling of emotions that she'd felt with the woman, and that seemed to confirm the impossible to her. She started shaking her head slowly, disbelief at the obvious solution making her almost want to laugh.

"Are you okay?" Kendra asked quietly.

"I think I'm feeling the emotions of the people around me." She replied just as quietly, voicing the only explanation that made sense. Okay, it didn'tactually make sense, but it was the only one she could think of.

Kendra's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open slightly. The dragon huntress stared at her for several seconds then her mouth formed a perfect 'O' and she cocked her head to one side. Moments later she slowly nodded her head and started smiling.

"What?" The caramel haired beauty asked.

"That actually makes sense; I'll explain later, and teach you how to block all that out."

"Thank you." Selene nodded vehemently, then turned her attention back to the conversation that Ethan was having.

"I can't believe you're here." The old man -- Horacio Grindle apparently -- was saying. "I see you, but I can't believe..." He breathed a sigh of relief. "We're saved. Thank Illuminar, we're saved."

"Look, I'll do what I can, but don't get your hopes up." Ethan replied. "I'm just one man-- err, dragon, and I won't put my wives in danger, so I don't know how much I can do."

"Anything." The woman said with firm conviction. "You can do anything that Illuminar -- blessed be He -- has called you to do."

Ethan shifted his weight from one foot to the other and scratched the back of his head as he made an expression not far from a wince. "Again, I'll do what I can."

A slightly awkward silence fell.

"Come, let me get you some lunch; it's about that time." The woman offered.

* * *

Ethan gave the couple a brief rundown of how he'd heard about their plight over a light lunch of slightly stale bread and some watered-down wine. He couldn't help but notice that everything in this house looked slightly similar to Talven and Salma's house. Apparently, even the owner of a mine wasn't spared from the ridiculous, tax-induced poverty that had gripped Ivernia. He clenched his hand into a fist under the table, wanting to have a few choice words with this Lord Farbrottan who was oppressing his good citizens.

"So that's how we came to be here, what's your problem and what can I do?" He asked.

"Kill them motherfuckin' orcs, that's what." Horacio growled. "They've been attacking the miners two or three times a week as they're on the way to the mine, or on the way back. They ambush from the hills with them damn warbows of theirs, and anyone who gets hit and can't make it to safety is dragged off into the hills, never to be see again."

"Except as a trophy." The woman -- Hestia -- added bitterly.

"Trophy?" Rachel asked.

"Orcs sometimes wear the bones of what they've killed as a trophy." Beth volunteered, though she looked horrified.

"That's polite way of saying they wear the bones of our friends to mock us." Horacio said bitterly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean--" Beth started to apologize, but Horacio held up his hand.

"Don't worry young lady, I know you didn't mean anything by it." He really looked like he could use a long nap and a long vacation. Also, not seeing the bones of former friends worn by orcs would also probably do wonders.

"You mentioned orc horns?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah, they always blow a horn several seconds before they attack." Horacio replied. "Don't make no sense to me since they attack like ambushers anyway. Good thing they do though, since that means we have a few seconds to get the shields up."

"The warning doesn't always help though." Hestia added. "It takes a very thick and heavy shield to stop an orcish warbow. Carrying them is a lot of work and sometimes they fail."

"Even when they work, the orcs or them smaller goblins might charge." Horacio shuddered. "Them clubs and axes they use is just devastatin', even when they aren't being swung by seven foot giants."

"Seven feet?" Beth asked. "I thought only the tallest orcs were that tall?"

"They look that tall when they're charging you." He shrugged. "Lord Kalus is here with a few men and they've reduced casualties dramatically, but they can't actually stop the attacks since it's only a few men."

"So, what do you want me to do?" Ethan asked.

"Call down a lightning storm from heaven and fry every last one of them godless sons o' bitches." Horacio replied.

"Yeah, I can do a single lightning bolt at a time; I can't do lightning storms."

"Okay, fry them one-at-a-time then." Horacio shrugged. "I don't care, long as they meet Saidow face-to-face."

"If I may ask, why don't you just leave the mine?" Rachel said after a slightly awkward silence. "Surely there must be other places to dig for iron."

"Yeah, but none as rich, which is why Lord Fatbrat won't let us leave." Hestia looked like she wanted to strangle the man herself.

Ethan completely understood the sentiment. "He won'tlet you leave?"

"He's made it clear that 'misfortune' would befall whoever left, and so far he's made good on that for the few people who have left." The haggard man shook his head. "We've got certain death with Fatbrat, or likely death with the orcs. That's the only reason anyone is still here."