Dark Thane

A shadow appeared from the mist, followed by another, then a dozen. Tall, gangly creatures, reptilian, with batlike wings and long, powerful tails, the draconians approached the dwarves' camp warily, curved swords in their hands and crossbows at the ready. They were a mixed group wearing a motley collection of armor, shields, and helms scavenged from a dozen battlefields. Their weapons represented nearly every race on Krynn, from a straightbladed Solamnic broadsword, to a dwarfs heavy battleaxe, to a massive club once wielded by an ogre. A few even wore remnants of blue dragonarmor of a style not seen since the War of the Lance.

Their leader stood out among his lesser companions. Unlike the darker-scaled draconians, this one was covered in silvery-gray scales that looked almost white in the foggy twilight. He was taller than any of the others by more than a head, powerfully built, with the scars of countless battles visible on his arms and nightmarish reptilian face. He was dressed in black armor, with an ironblack breastplate covering his chest, but his armor had obviously been made at great cost to fit him snugly. Interlocking leaves of black steel protected his flanks and back while allowing full range of movement for his large silvery wings. He was a sivak, one of the most dangerous of the five races of draconians.

Ferro warily watched the draconian brigade approach, softly encouraging his warriors to hold their positions and to make no sudden moves. As they neared the camp, several of the smaller draconians disappeared into the swamp to either side of the road. Ferro guessed that they were good swimmers, as these wore no armor and carried daggers clamped between their razor-sharp teeth.

This rendezvous was extremely dangerous for the dwarves. The draconians outnumbered the dwarves by almost three to one, and Ferro had no way of knowing how many draconians there truly were. Perhaps there were many others out there in the bog watching them. The foul creatures might decide to go back on their agreement, in which case Ferro and his dwarves would likely be killed to the last dwarf for their armor, weapons, and clothes. Or one of his dwarves might speak something out of place, offend one of the draconians, and start a battle that had no end. He was thankful he'd had the forethought to hire Theiwar mercenaries, who did not share the hotheaded nature of their Daergar cousins.

The sivak leader of the draconians stopped a spear's throw from the camp and peered ahead with his black, soulless eyes. No one spoke, and the draconians made no move to approach closer. Finally, Ferro sheathed his sword and swallowed in a throat suddenly parched dry as the Plains of Dust then stepped toward the draconians, empty hands raised palms outward. At his movement, a dozen crossbows were turned to train their sights on him. His step hesitated for only a moment before he muttered, "Ah, to the Abyss with it," and walked boldly forward.

"Welcome, General Zen. I trust you had no trouble on the road," the Daergar said in affected friendliness.

The sivak hissed in amusement and stepped out to greet Ferro, reaching out one huge clawed hand to clasp the dwarfs smaller one. Ferro winced at the draconian's strength, but continued to smile through gritted teeth.

"It was as you said it would be," General Zen said in a voice that slithered like scales scraping over stone. He released the Daergar's grip and made a sharp motion with his hand toward his company of draconians. Ferro tensed until he saw them lower their weapons and appear to relax, though they remained well outside the camp. The ones who had slipped off the road still hadn't reappeared.

"I killed the loud one," Zen said as he stepped past Ferro and approached the fire near the Daergar's tent.

"Excellent," Ferro said nervously as he followed the draconian. Zen stopped near the fire and spread his huge powerful wings, stretching them out to catch the heat from the glowing coals. Ferro ducked under the draconian's wings and moved to the other side of the fire.

"Won't you come into my tent so that we may discuss… things," he said.

The lids of the draconian's eyes lowered, and his black eyes seemed to grow somehow blacker. Folding up his wings, he stooped through the low opening of the tent. Ferro squeezed in behind him and tugged a cord, loosening the flap and allowing it to fall over the opening, closing them in.