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dzamie-oc · 4 years

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Smaugust 07 - Decay

A peaceful monk is ordered to "deal with" a dragon whose very presence is causing a swath of death and decay in the kingdom. He promises to do so, but does not wish to betray his nonviolent ways.

Darvos was transcribing a copy of his texts when the summons arrived. The king of the land had requested his presence, and further, his assistance. Although Darvos was well aware of his own skill with his staff, used only to protect and defend those who were unable to protect themselves, he could hardly guess why the king would want to see him. Nonetheless, a request from the king himself was not something someone would turn down if they knew what was good for them. During the trip to the capital, and castle within, Darvos tried convincing himself that the king was going to request that he travel the kingdom to further spread the word and teachings of his largely nonviolent beliefs to his fellow citizens. He failed miserably, and wound up nervous at what he would be instructed to do.

Every hall of the castle was lavish beyond Darvos's imagination. Huge, stained glass windows decorated every wall, impeccable carpets rolled from one end of the building to the other, and the parts of the walls not occupied by windows or doors were covered with long, ceiling-height banners, embroidered with the royal family crest, and masterfully detailed portraits of the king and his family. Darvos did his best not to stare as he saw in one glance more wealth than his order would allow to have among the lot of them. Finally, he was ushered into the throne room, where rows of knights, dressed all in bright, shining, golden and blue armor guarded the king on his extravagant seat. As he looked around, Darvos could see how the room had been designed to keep the throne - and the monarch seated upon it - at the perpetual center of focus.

"Darvos, is it not?" the king asked, rhetorically, "We have heard great tales of your deeds. Call you yourself a monk, then, or paladin?"

"Just a monk, sir," Darvos replied, before hastily appending, "Y-your Majesty."

"Very well, monk. You have proven yourself beyond capable at dealing with unsightly monsters." His head moved ever so slightly towards a man standing in attendance, holding a book. Although the king said nothing, nor did he move further, the man stepped forward and read aloud from the book.

"August 2nd, 19 KC. A flock of ferocious griffons ravaging the town of Hillshire were driven away by the actions of Darvos of the Order Nonpugil. No townsfolk bore witness to the deed, yet all affirmed he returned unscathed from the fight.

"March 17th, 20 KC. Frequent reports of nagas kidnapping travelers between Hillshire and Waterford ceased after Darvos of the Order Nonpugil ventured into the territory of the nagas. All but three victims - presumed dead - returned to their respective towns shortly after.

"September 9th, 20 KC. A sphinx, who prevented people from entering or leaving Hillshire regardless of their answers to her riddles, left or was removed after Darvos of the Order Nonpugil approached her. Regular trade resumed swiftly."

Darvos shifted uncomfortably. He had a suspicion as to why the events were recorded like that, and what sort of task the king was about to saddle him with. The bookkeeper continued for several more entries before the king silently signaled for him to stop. "Now then, Darvos," the king began, "We have called you here about a beast most foul in the north of Our kingdom. What information We have is merely rumor and educated guess, but for that it causes all within a growing radius to waste away and perish. The wasteland is expanding towards the people of this kingdom, and that is unforgivable and unadmissible." He fixed Darvos with a commanding stare. "As such, you, a fierce and experienced warrior against monsters, who defends humanity against such beasts, are tasked with eliminating this creature. The rumors which have been collected suggest this monster is a yellow dragon; however, all attempts to get close enough to confirm such have ended in failure."

There was a pause, and Darvos realized it was his turn to speak. "My practice discourages fighting when not necessary, and forbids killing," he started. The king's stare grew harder, and he could see and hear the armed guards tense, readying themselves for whatever he might command them to do. Darvos swallowed a lump and went on, "however, protecting my fellow beings is a noble task of the highest order, so if I must fight... I must fight. Either way, I will do all I can to stop the encroaching death."

The king's face softened into a smile. "Very good. You will have The Guard's arsenal at your disposal, should you wish to arm yourself for the task. And, of course, several magical draughts to resist the fiend's effects will be available."

Darvos nodded, then bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope to not fail You or my fellow beings."

The monk spent the next week in preparation, trying to work out what he would do. He would not, of course, call out the king for having the wrong information on his deeds, especially not when he suspected doing so might get the king to send a warrior to kill the creature causing this. When he faced the griffons, he had merely convinced the town's hunters to refrain from stealing the flying creatures' eggs and poaching their young. After this, the cat-birds were perfectly content to live peacefully nearby. And again, when the snake people caused problems, they had been greatly slighted by horses and carts rumbling near and even over their dens, resulting in interruption and occasional injury. Only those who veered off the main, cleared pathway had been taken. With greater communication between the nagas and... well, Hillshire, at least (Waterford was less than eager to listen), and clear markings to mark the main road, the nagas were granted peace in their homes and travelers were granted peace of mind as they traveled. Except for the two who had been eaten, but Darvos could see no reason to increase the number of corpses for it.

And the story with the sphinx was similar, though unique. He hadn't sought to leave Hillshire; he merely asked for conversation. She spared him long enough to spend a very entertaining afternoon with her. One thing had led to another, and he soon found himself quite grateful - for his sake and for Hillshire's - that his vows did not include one of celibacy. She still visited him from time to time, although most encounters were largely to catch up on events and for her to test out riddles on the monk.

However, by the time the end of the week rolled around, and he was set to travel out, he was prepared. He had turned down offers of armor, of swords, and accepted only a staff. Even then, he intended to use it far more for walking than for fighting. Accompanied by a guard to protect him up until the wasteland, Darvos began the trip towards the northern edge of the kingdom. It was largely uneventful, and before he realized, he had reached the town being threatened with encroaching death. He disembarked and decided to find out what more the people of the town knew of the dragon.

Results were mixed.

"It's surely divine punishment for Vance and Doyle stealing each other's tools constantly, and arguing without stop!"

"Mom said it gets closer because some people in this town don't eat their vegetables! It can't be me, though, so the adults are screwing things up for the rest of us!"

"It coughs a lot. Maybe it forgot how to breathe fire?"

"Darryl suggested a virgin sacrifice like people in old stories please dragons. He dropped it when I suggested we use him for the sacrifice, of course."

"It's a mighty wizard dragon, concocting a spell to visit a plague across the entire world, until only it and other dragons and poison creatures are left!"

"It's as yellow as the sand it holes up in."

"Silzer used to grow flowers, you know. I suppose he's lost his green thumb, then."

Darvos did a double-take at that last one. The old woman smiled in kind remniscence. "Oh-ho, you doubt me, I'm sure. Well, I was barely even a woman when he left for good, but ol' Silzer used to be such a pleasant drake. Thinking back on him, he was far more patient with us little kids than he had any need to be." She sighed. "Oh, I hope he didn't go away and start doing this because of how we loved to climb his tail and hug his snout."

"I am... sorry to hear that, ma'am," the monk said, "er, would you happen to remember what sorts of things he used to eat before he left?"

She scrunched her face up in thought. "Oh, I'm not so clear on that. I never had to cook for him, you see, and seventy years is quite a long time back to recall. Perhaps fish? Fish and eggs, I think. Maybe the plants from his garden? That sounds like it might be right." The old woman squinted at him. "There were, and are, no humans in his diet, you hear? I know you come from the capital, and Silzar deserves better than getting beat up like a common thug!" The fire in her dimmed as she gazed to the north end of the town with a wistful look, saying, "at least, I hope you can save us and him, both. I've not seen him, myself, in several years."

Darvos placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I do not believe fighting should be necessary in anything. Rest assured, ma'am, ending that dragon's - Silzar's - life is not even on my mind."

She smiled back. "In that case, young sir, I wish you the absolute best of luck."

"Glad to hear it." He turned to leave, but before doing so, looked back at her. "Say, would there happen to be an apothecary, or alchemist, in this town? I have a rather special request for them."

Hardly an hour later, he walked to the north edge of town, package from the alchemist in his hand. He and the guard uncorked the rot-resisting potions from the capital, downing their respective doses. As they stepped into the dead lands, Darvos looked at the trained warrior. "If you would, please stay back while I deal with Sil- with the dragon. If I am successful, I will not need your aid, and if I fail, it is better that you are able to escape and tell the king of what happened." He received only a stiff nod in response.

After some walking, a sizable mound in the barren soil appeared, with a hole in the side well large enough to fit a young adult dragon through. "Here should be fine, if you do not mind," Darvos said to the guard, who took a few more steps before visibly coming to a stop. "Thank you," he said with honest gratitude, and he steeled himself and strode up to the entrance.

"Dragon? Silzer? I am Darvos, seeking to help. Will you come and talk?"

"Simply to talk? My every breath is death; I kill the very soil I stand on," a deep, rattling voice echoed from within, "what do you hope to gain from a talk? If you have come for a fight, I will not drag myself out for one; if you are true for a talk, come and face me in my domain."

Darvos took his second dose of the potion, in case his first grew weak in the dragon's home. "Very well, Silzer. I hope to gain nothing, but I believe what I carry with me will help you regain a friendship and forge new ones, and a town will be freed of an unnatural clock over their lives." He walked into the hole, quickly finding himself in the dark. "My heartfelt apologies if I am clumsy and run into you; I have not the keen eyesight of a dragon."

A jet of flame shoots through the air in front of him, lighting a solitary torch between him and a large, yellow-scaled dragon. His teeth had dulled and yellowed, too, over the years of isolation, and while Darvos was no expert on dragons, he could not call the dragon's tired features "healthy." Silzar, he sensed, was also looking him over, as if to see what fancy weaponry he had snuck in to brave a dragon's cave unassisted. "Truthful, foolish, or beyond skilled," Silzar remarked, "now, you mentioned carrying something with you. What would you present to me?"

"Ah, I'm afraid there is no fully polite way to ask this," Darvos said as he reached into the bag from the alchemist, withdrawing two of the tablets within, "but would you care for a breath mint?"

Two days later, the king's book had a new entry in it. "August 7, 23 KC. A plague of death and rot in the northern lands, brought about by a dragon, wass put to end when Darvos of the Order Nonpugil faced the dragon alone."

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