Dragonbane

The events however stirred a bit up my adventurous side. I found myself catching gossip when I was in town, to hear about the Dragon Lords of Drino or anything concerning politics. The latter was mostly an eerie muffled silence, people worried to express anything related. Even if so, they were only low-toned useless rumors, a few twists on the air battle, some accidents and a missing child supposedly eaten in an alleyway.

There were but a few travelers who actually visited Drino: it was far. By land on a decent horse it was said someone could do it in seven days, by cart it could take some three weeks. It wasn't any shorter on water either, and it even went out of country, so only large barges used that route.

It was hard to filter out reality from fantasy. It was depicted to be a hilly region, Drino itself sprawling between the Lena and the Antaran citadel built over a steep mountaintop, some describing it as an impressive fortification, some a sky-high magical tower concealed in a swirl of dragons. Dragons! Almost every story involved them in some manner! Dragons walking on the streets, dragons overlooking the port, magnificent royal golden dragons guarding the gates of the citadel like eternal glimmering statues! Some even rumored blasphemy, supposing they secretively worshiped the ancient god of Quetzalcoatl, the giant golden dragon of Heaven!

It was mesmerizing even if only half of it was truth. For the sake of completeness, some wild tales were even floating around from the royal city of Ursus, Jala and other settlements, the farther the more eccentric, but neither reaching the grandeur of those of Drino. I realized I simply have to see it one day, it hammered my urges, my dreams, my want to experience dragons!

Reality however again crushed hard on my shoulders. I again had to realize I will either have to buy my way there, or become Protector so I could travel free. Having my job, however, these possibilities now felt being in my reach, distant, but something I had means to grasp on. The latter needed the more investments, but I believed only that to be the wise solution, enriching my skills, ensuring my freedom of travel so I could easier get a job in need.

Truly I even had good proficiencies for that prospect, the knowledge of the forest, how to handle the potential dangers of wildlife. I felt both lucky and grateful for those who helped me to get here, most importantly Mother, and of course Arne with his sawmill. It was also uneasy, thinking that I might eventually leave, but I simply couldn't resolve the conflict in myself, my respect of those who helped me against the desolateness of gloomy old Tikira, the wish for dragons urging me to see the world.

So I meticulously started saving up, assessing what I might need if I wanted to travel, even if I was to be alone on the road. An archery set of fine craftsmanship was the worst item on my checklist.

The woods had their own dangers, and unarguably, those were probably the most perilous places. However walking in the open was neither something without deadly hazards. The worst of those was that without the safe cover of trees, travelers were exposed to wild wyverns, and so the need for Protectors. With my profession I never had to be concerned, so I only started to learn about this then.

Meanwhile, my fourth year passed in Arne's service, but I decided to stay for I had nowhere else to go, and for they truly appreciated my decision. I kept performing my duties with dedication while planning my escape from this city, meticulously saving up money.

Then, a nice day one of the most unexpected surprises happened to me. It was my mother, the poor agricultural worker plodding on the fields never having as much as a penny. On that morning, she woke me up, reminding me that was my seventeenth birthday, adulthood, which I completely forgot about just as any other damn birthday! She led me to the table, and on it was... A perfect, quality craftsmanship Dragonbane recurve bow with a fitting quiver and a set of broadhead hunting arrows! A fragment of my very dream!

I was awestruck unable to imagine how this could happen! Such an archery set cost many months of my salary! We had a long talk that day of many things.

First, to reassure me that there isn't any enslaving credit deal involved, she explained she put away all that money I sent home forming quite a nice stockpile, so I should just take it as she was my secret little bank. Moreover, there was still a little left behind from Father...

Father! She drifted towards those old memories, my childhood, those telegraphs to Jala when I had first seen a dragon up close. Father had a never settling soul, some of which I likely inherited. He couldn't stay put for more than a few years, so the inevitable happened, they divorced. He, however, understood that he can't bring me with him plunging into the hazards of a traveling factotum's life never having a permanent job, and left almost all his belongings and money here, to Mother, so she could raise and school me into a proper man.

I never knew these, suddenly casting a different light over those memories. It seems I was to continue Father's fate, to be a never settling wanderer, and Mother understood, she understood that she can't hold me here in Tikira for my insatiable urge for taking wings will devour me.

It was overwhelming, touching. She helped me towards these goals, and here it was, lain on the table, probably one of the last components for me to embark on my quest to see the world. We were to part ways, but she understood. We cuddled over the deep revelations, weeping.

Back at the sawmill Caron helped me with my new acquisition, explaining the mechanics of recurve bows which I didn't use before, praising their power for their smaller size. He showed how to string it proper, then suggested me to try shooting. It was strange, it required similar effort to draw like that large unwieldy bow we only rarely took into the woods for hunting antelopes. Perfect, I thought, an awesome thing to have in the forest!

He however could only help me to recognize the Dragonbane's value for hunting and fending off predators in dire need, not having experience wandering in the open. He suggested me there should be some guilt in the city where I could start off.

So next occasion I looked a bit around until I found out there indeed is a Protectors' Training Ground in the outskirts. It wasn't too far, just remote enough so it eluded the attention of those not seeking out for it, and even then, it wasn't much more than an open field, an archery range, with a single odd feature of a quite tall pole with a target on it's top.

When I first visited, it was completely empty. I wandered around for a short while with a little desolate feeling, until I heard someone calling out. It was from the door of a small house, recognizing that, I promptly hurried there to meet whoever he was.

The place turned out to have a janitor, an old geezer with all white hair and bread, however a stiff build suggesting the venerable remnants of a once strong man. He introduced himself as Carl, telling he was a wandering Protector, now for his old days employed in common service here to tutor the new generation. He called me in for a talk, noticing my shiny new Dragonbane, presuming I was new in this field. I admitted I was, and asked for his kind guidance.

"The First Law of Protector. You don't shoot at a dragon". What? I was stunned, asking then what I was to do if I was attacked by one. "Of course you shoot". What?! I was outright confused, asking him to elaborate. "You asked what you had to do if you were attacked. Of course you shoot then. The First Law only suggests you to avoid being attacked".

He explained shortly that wyverns avoid cities, ships, and large groups of people since those, even if they don't have guardians, are more likely to have several archers to shoot at them, so I should prefer these in the open. Otherwise, I should use cover, trees, forests if possible. If not, the morning was the better since the wyverns prefer to warm themselves up by the Sun before taking off for a hunt. Only then would the bow come in play, if all else failed, and I was there in the wide open with the large winged shape descending from the sky.

Then, he continued that even then it is way more important if I could startle the wyvern into leaving than what kind of bow I actually had or whether I could even use it, so the first was to learn to take and draw it fast from any position. He insisted that they actually rarely attack, and even if so, most times the sight of an armed bow is enough to persuade them trying something else.

Only then the bow and arrows would matter, but he rather suggested us to go out to see how I perform in the aforementioned task. I was surprised to see him equipping himself as well. He asked to string my bow, then positioned me and pointed behind, towards the sky "There's a wyvern swooping down, now!". I reached for my quiver, feeling for the bow and an arrow the best I could, pulling them out, turning and drawing. My performance was acknowledged with a disappointed scowl. "Terrible. Four hundred yards for the wyvern. You are dead". He then showed the same with his own equipment at an amazing swiftness for such an old man. "One hundred and fifty. You have chance". Then he pointed out a few key elements of the technique, such as how I should prepare my quiver, in a few tries bringing me down to two hundred and fifty yards, suggesting I should just keep practicing later.

Returning inside, he continued his tutoring. He pulled out an arrow from my quiver. "These hunting broadheads are useless against a wyvern. They punch superficial holes in the skin unable to cut through, only teasing them". He drew two arrows of his, placing them next to mine. They looked like cheap disposable military bodkin points, which I expressed aloud. "Indeed, one of them is such, used for target practicing here. This one however is a stinger". He aligned the two points to show the difference. "It is a hardened bodkin point, you can recognize them for their fine shape and the recesses. Only this can punch through their skin from a reasonable distance, only if shot by a Dragonbane or something more powerful".

I examined the arrows thoughtfully, then asked about the purpose of the recesses. "Yes, they don't contribute to piercing. The stinger is used with a salty grease, delivered into the wound by those". This astounded me, making me ask whether it kills. "No, it doesn't from a range you would survive. It is to cause pain, to make them regret their attack, to turn them away". Wondering, I asked about that range which I would survive. "Farther than two hundred yards, it deflects. Closer than a hundred, the wyvern crushes you". It wasn't exactly reassuring.

Maybe next occasion I visited town I noticed a recruitment station set up by the market for the royal army, prospecting good salaries and career possibilities. For a moment it passed through my mind whether it would be a good opportunity, but I rather dismissed it when the prospect of traveling on my own, free of encumbering restrictions was this close.

Taxes the same time increased, also bugging me since by that Arne had to cut on everyone's pay to break even. Out of curiosity I checked my old contract, which turned out to contain such a clause.

Apart from these, there was silence, not even rumors floating around, the Chancellor's visit largely forgotten while the Drino Messenger faithfully performed his duty week after week along with the other two connecting Ursus and Jala. There was a certain something in the air, some tension rising, but nobody knew what exactly. Rumors told our country's relations with the neighbors were peaceful and lucrative, but there could be anything under the surface.

Meanwhile, I kept practicing, visiting the Protector's training ground when possible, accepting Carl's suggestions to improve myself, occasionally also snatching techniques from other people there.

It only turned even more formidable when Carl demonstrated what I should expect. It was late afternoon. He led me to a spot noting that the tall pole is somewhere behind me about one hundred yards away, and that will be the attacking wyvern I supposedly notice when he says so. He counted down from three, then "Now!". I jumped grabbing my bow and arrow to turn around just to get totally blinded by the Sun as I desperately tried to find my target! The arrow flew off, of course nobody ever found where it landed!

He admitted this exact scenario is not very likely, but only for that a real Protector should be always keeping an eye on the sky especially around the Sun lest a wyvern could sneak on him this way! I felt I started to really understand the First Law.