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Kingfisher Chronicles ” A gathering of dragons”

A Gathering of Dragons…The Weyrmoot

Once again it was time for the monthly Weyrmoot or ‘Meeting of Dragon Lords, Morus ‘71’ and his identical twin brother ‘72’ had prepared a fine feast in anticipation of the Clan Council. No expense had been spared by the brothers and so the Dragon Clan came in droves, there is after all little better in life than a free feed. High above the castle walls that dominate the skyline of the villages of Moortgat and Maredsous hanging precariously to the Dragon Spires perched enough winged reptilian firepower to raze half the Empire into ash and above those dragons that were currently resting was an equal amount soaring on the late afternoon thermals, either unwilling to spend time with the other beasts or disinclined to relinquish the pleasure of unbridled flight. Down on the castle walls in amongst the crenulations scampered dozens of smaller dog sized creatures, although it has to be said these creatures are far from dog ‘looking’,  being more like a cross between small red dinosaurs and overgrown fruit bats that have consumed far too many steroids on top of a little genetic modification, these creatures being the dragonets of the ‘Dragonet Fire Teams’ of Lord Gus Broeder and lord Pinon Drax, these diminutive little freaks of nature had insisted on making the journey as an escort to their masters ‘ride’, dragonets may lack the size of their close relatives the dragons but their flight speed and stamina is second to none and their ability to disgorge pellets of incendiary material and create extremely hot fire makes them a very dangerous weapon in the right hands.


The City Guards standing watch upon the high walls knew better than to feed the dragonets but the dragonets were insistent that they would be sharing the humans rations, whether the humans liked it or not and this would be by fair means or foul.

One dragonet was up on its hind legs begging like a dog, meow-ling like a cat and thrumming its wings like a cock-pheasant, it was a very good show indeed but the three guards that it was performing to were unmoved by its skills, they had seen it all before and knew that it was never a good idea to give these creatures food as they soon get ‘competitive’ and that is when things can get dangerous.

The performing dragonet raised the ante and began to walk backwards, swivelling its head and warbling like songbird, a songbird that has spent far too long in the presence of a rather demented Wizard with a penchant for tinkering but a songbird none the less. The Guards were enchanted by the strange call of the dragonet, an eclectic tune reminiscent of a Black Thrush but forever changing, one moment sweet and melodic then weirdly haunting like the call of the Marsh Curlew.

What the Guards were unaware of were the two dragonets behind them that were pilfering their days rations from inside their unmanned lookout tower and when the ‘show-off’ was sure that the job was done and all the food had been taken it simply flew off and the left the Guards standing there completely unaware that they did not have even the smallest crumb of food between them till late evening when they were to be relieved by the next watch.

Inside the castle however the likelihoods of running out of food was remote, for ‘one’ there was but a single dragonet within the Great Hall, ‘Fifi’ the personal pet and body guard of lord Pinon and for ‘two’ the Morus brothers always tended to lay out the most extravagant of tables for what is when all is said and done a political steering meeting rather than a social get together. It is believed by the majority of the Dragon Clan members that they do this to compete with Kingfisher, who it is said has the most skilled chefs this side of the Vermilion Mountains in his employ and provides the finest of meat and drinks to his guests but what is ‘believed’ and what is ‘spoken of’ are two different matters as to place in jeopardy such a fine spread of food as what the Morus brothers provide would be foolish in the extreme.

A long table running the length of the Great Hall of the Morus bothers castle was where the Weyrmoot would commence, a Weyrmoot being a meeting of the Dragon Riders of the Dragon Clan.

The Clan does not have a leader as such it is more a cooperative of like minded individuals with an interest in the keeping and breeding of dragons that work towards goals of mutual interest, providing each other not only with information but also other material commodities such as food, gold, timber and textiles, in fact it could be argued that the Dragon Clan is a little like a Canary Club or Budgerigar Breeding Society, excepting one would not want to argue that comparison too vigorously with a Dragon Lord nor would one want to trespass upon their lands as the major difference between the Dragon Clan and a fancy bird breeders society is that budgies and canaries don’t tend to open the ‘keg of whuppass’ with quite so much flamboyance as a well trained flight of dragons out on the rampage.

King Barfael Koren Vestrit called the meeting to order, he being of actual dragon blood, he considered the Chair his privilege. Speaking with a strong voice and clear purpose he began his address “Dragon Clan, it was once said ‘That by the sustained and expert use of propaganda that one could make a people see Heaven as Hell or an extremely wretched life as paradise and that all propaganda has to do to succeed is be popular and accommodate itself to the comprehension of the least intelligent of those that it seeks to reach!’ I believe this is the way of the Empire and I feel that it is the way to war! The Dra’kori people have for many months been aware of something amiss within the Palace of The Hague, The Emperor and his Advisors and Legislators create policy that at first glance would have the people believe that all is well in the world and that we should beat our swords and spears back into plough sheers for we will never have use for them again!”

The assembled Dragon Council nodded there concurrence, one or two even tapped the bottoms of their ale horns against the table top to add a little force to their conformity, after a few moments they fell silent and let King Barfael carry on, the sooner the talking was over the sooner they would all be at the feast filling their faces for it had to be said the Goliath Oxen hind quarter looked magnificent and the honey glazed gammon of wild Razorback was as always a dish to die for, quite literally, if the lance missed, the beast would have your guts out faster than the blink of an eye.

“What the Empire on the face of it fails to understand is that we of the Dragon Clan are not farmers and so we have little use for plough shears but at the same time we are neither barbarians nor wild men of the mountains and dark places, we do not seek war but neither do we fear it for we are the Dragon Clan and we fear nothing!”

“I fear I have an empty flagon!” called out Lord Grunnen, his face already flushed with ale, the rest of the room laughed at what the handsome Dragon Lord had to say on the subject of fear.

“Aye! Well said lord Grunnen, we all fear the thirst brought on by an empty flagon” King Barfael signalled to a nearby mead wench standing quietly at the side of the Hall “Wench, fill up Lord Grunnen’s flagon before he falls in fear upon the floor but not so full that he falls in beer upon the floor!” King Barfael stopped for a moment to regain his train of thought “Fear? We here have no use for the word, the Dragon Clan shy away from nothing and it is this that the Empire fears, not only from us but also the other Frontier Clans and this is what the current raft of Imperial policy is in relation to, it has nothing to do with the preservation of peace nor the futility of keeping a functional militia force! No, the Empire would have us neutered! But for what reason I ask? Who amongst our number has not suffered of late through the ill conceived ideals of those that live the quiet life of the Capitol? I have lost an army of good and loyal Orc troops to their Imperial Edict; Kingfisher over there has lost both Trolls and Goblins that number in the many tens of thousands and for what reason? I can see no reason… but whatever reason it is, it is the very same reason that Lord Dar Kronin was forced to melt down his mortars and to call a halt to his employment of Lowland Trolls and a half Legion of Blood Ogres? The Empire says that the mortars are no longer needed as they contravene the Imperial Articles of War and the employment of  ‘near human species’ is exploitation, is it exploitation  to give them a roof over their heads and put gold in their pockets! I say it was a partnership. Would the Empire rather our armies returned to the wild places and took up their old lives? Do they even have an understanding what their old lives were?”

Lord Lannik of the Northern Mountains and one of Kingfishers closest neighbours stood to address the Council “Do we go back to the dark ages where we could not even cross a bridge within our own Kingdoms without providing a toll of three goats?” Lannik slapped his palm against the top of the table “I would rather have the trolls and ogres, the orcish and the goblins where I can see them and on my side, what happens when they run out of food? Does the Empire expect them to eat cabbage all winter? Life in the Northern Mountains is hard enough as it is…I fear bad things for the future!”

Queen Lorelei of the Lowlands Paradise raised a hand and spoke softly but forcefully to the Council “It is the opinion of my people that there are bad times and storms ahead, the Eastern Sea is abnormally calm for this time of year and that in the opinion of my shaman is a grievous omen of foreboding, as the old rhyme says ‘if Eastern Sea of Septemensis is like calm and placid mere by Janumensis there be storms and tempest, the fury and the fear!”

“With greatest respects what you say is true Queen Lorelei but the very same rhyme also tells of red skies at night and shepherds in flight, I have witnessed many hundreds of red skies but have only ever seen a single shepherd in fight! And it had nothing to do with the red sky but the fact that a hungry dragon had him in its claws!” guffawed a rather young and extremely drunk Dragon Rider that should have known better than to open his mouth in the company of his Dragon Lord and embarrass him in front of the rest of the Clan.

“Shut your trap you impudent dog and don’t mock the omens!” snarled his Dragon Lord ,the fearsome and notoriously short tempered Lord Cerdroc Corter “ I will have your tongue the next time your mouth opens without my say so, do you hear me dog?” Lord Cedroc Corter swiped at the back of the young man head, almost knocking him off his stool.

“Yes, my Lord” the shamed Dragon Rider rubbed is head “My apologies Queen Lorelei, I spoke out of turn, I humbly beg your forgiveness”

“There is nothing to forgive young Master Kalmatos “Queen Lorelei smiled at the boy making him blush bright red.

King Barfael stood again to address the gathering “Lord Cerdroc, don’t be too harsh on the boy Kalmatos, I can remember a young man I used to call Pork Chop being of a similar ilk, he had a sense of fun and adventure and he too liked to drink a little too much ale at times”

“He needs to know his place King Barfael; these are strange times that we are entering, the omens are dark and this boy has only seen the best of times but the frightening part is that he is not alone, more than half our Dragon Riders are his age or even younger. They have no concept of hardship; they need to understand what may be ahead of us”

“And what is ahead of us?” Interjected Kingfisher “Because I certainly do not know what the omens mean, all I can say is that the last time the Eastern Sea was this calm I was sailing upon it with a little over two hundred fellow Atrussian’s, all intent on forging a new life in Eurodarkia or die trying, for us Atrussian’s a calm Eastern Sea allowed us the chance to navigate the reefs and make landfall with our lives intact, to us this peaceful sea brings good memories. Yes, The Emperor has indeed made some strange decisions of late; decisions that have hurt us all but are these decisions made with an open heart or are they simply the chess moves that lead up to the point in the game where it is lost before there is chance to counter? I do not know…and we need to know”

“Well said Kingfisher, you are becoming more of a King by the day… I vividly remember your arrival upon these shores like it was yesterday, I was flying with Lord Dar Kronin when our dragons found you and yours camping upon the sacred beach of the Archangels dressed in rags with your stupid blue braids standing up in their usual gaudy manner! What’s your name boy I said ‘Kai Ang of the Clan V’Shoori’ you replied ‘Kai Ang Vshoor, a strange name if ever I heard one, you look more like a Kingfisher to me with that hair’ I said to you…and the name has stuck although the same cannot be said of Lord Pork Chop over there!”

“I have a name and I happen to like it” growled Cerdroc Corter

“Of course you do, Pork Chop!” King Barfael loved to give all the members of the Clan nick-names and titles, even when the Clan would rather he didn’t, he made Kingfisher a Baron and he gave land and title to the Morus Brothers in a Kingdom so far away that they will never see it.“We need to spread our net and find the truth behind the actions of the Empire, we need to find the reason behind the rhyme; if we can do this I feel we may have the advantage!”

“You have spies within the Palace of The Hague, do you not King Barfael?” asked Lord Lannik

“That I do. Not good ones but spies none the less and what they tell me is unsettling to say the least…for one the Fourteenth Legion has been dispatched!”

“For what reason?” asked Morus 71 “The Fourteenth Legion serves the emperors warrants for arrest and take into custody those charged as traitors, for what reason could they have been dispatched, we show no love for the Empire but traitors we are not!”

“And that is the least of it…I also have a destination and knowledge of what charge they intend to press and against whom”

The Great Hall of the Morus brothers fell silent, Kingfisher looked at Sh’Vorn and raised an eyebrow, he knew that the game was up; somehow the actions of Jahmedhi and Gronk had been uncovered. He stood “When should I expect these unwanted guests at my door?”

Shock rippled through the Hall, Kingfisher was many things but to have an Imperial Warrant served against him seemed a little too unreal for anyone to take in.

“A month maybe six weeks, the Fourteenth Legion is on foot and has other warrants to serve before they get to the Fjall”

“And the charge?” asked Kingfisher

“No charge…Protective custody”

“That is a long walk for little reason”

“It’s a little charge for a little creature, it’s your Goblin General they are after, it seems the Empire flew a Cold Case Squad into the Border Woodlands when their Auditor disappeared, they brought a dog with them, the dog found the evidence they needed”

“That was stupid; they can’t prosecute on the word of a Werewolf”

“Exactly, it was their plan to open a lead up with the dog and then follow it to its natural conclusion, unfortunately for them the evidence provided by the dog was all they could find, hence the protective custody, custody from now until the end of time!”

Kingfisher reached inside his breastplate and extracted his mobile orb; the room fell silent, for the vast majority of people this was their first encounter with the mobile version of the Orb. Kingfisher had been practicing and so with one flick he was through “Oy!” Jahmedhi’s orb had 360 degree vision and it showed the goblin was in one of the Royal Pantries eating a side of salted beef “You are supposed to be outside the City Walls!”

“Was hungry mate…Ennywayz wassup mi’nigga?” replied the unmistakable voice of the goblin

“Get off my salted beef and don’t address me as ‘me’nigga’, the Fourteenth Legion is on the way”

“So tell me something I don’t know…like duz Sh’Vorn have a shaven haven or a hairy canar..” the goblin was stopped mid sentence

“You know? How do you know?” asked a shocked Kingfisher

“Aye itz old news mate…I heard out it the day before yesterday”


“Mi cuz down at the Kebabza shop told me…We know all there is to know down at Kebabitch mate”

“How the Hell did he happen to find out that the Fourteenth had been dispatched from The Hague and was on its way?”

“Imperial Equality Act mate, Yooz stupid Empire went and hired some unemployed economically migrating goblins as janitors…therefore fingz being what they iz, twenty minutes after da boyz startz work I knowz everyfink about everyfink like innit!”

“I cannot believe that he has contacts on the inside!” muttered King Barfael incredulous, King Barfael had spent five years nurturing his spies and the secrets came in dribs and drabs and rarely anything of serious note or value, the goblin had secrets handed to him on a plate “ How many contacts does he have?”

“Dozens pal…I az contacts everywhere Barf mate…Inside, outside underneef on top and even behind in the latrines… but back to the mighty Fourteenth Legion…hand on heart, I dunt fink I will take up their generous offer of protective custody, I dunt like the Capitol, it smells like shit and piss…so it would make me homesick, so I would be better off just staying at home…Anywayz less of this bollocks, Kingly have you given your Dragon Boys their gifts?”

“Not yet mate” replied Kingfisher

“Well, don’t be shy… give them out so dat I can see dem little faces light up when yooz open the box!”

Kingfisher looked at Sh’Vorn, Sh’Vorn clicked her fingers and into the Great Hall came two of Gronk’s Junior Trolls that kingfisher had hired as porters cum body guards for the day, at only a little over seven feet tall they were not yet fully grown but were still more than large enough to act as a deterrent to anyone with prying eyes or sticky fingers. Upon their shoulders they carried a box, a very big box, they placed it upon the table in front of Kingfisher and stepped back.

“What is this?” enquired King Barfael

“A gift from the goblin, General Jahmedhi (retired) majority shareholder in Druid Phone Warehouse” Kingfisher unclipped the box and pushed back the lid, inside the box were dozens upon dozens of smaller boxes, each one with a   strange sigil upon its top, a sigil that looked very much like a half eaten pear in honour of the single fruit hanging all alone upon the tree in Orchard Square, the new Headquarters of Jahmedhi and Gronk’s business empire. Kingfisher lifted up a small white and silver box little bigger than a child’s fist “Mobile Orb technology!”

“These are orbs?” the Morus brothers pushed forwards “What are the sigils?”

“The “silver pear” is the maker’s mark; it is a funny story actually… Jahmedhi had been entertaining some young ladies whilst Gronk was sat by the window drawing up their sigil, Gronk had asked the goblin for inspiration to which the goblin replied “’Draw that nice pair over there’ Gronk became confused and instead of drawing the young ladies chest he drew the maggoty half eaten pear hanging upon the tree outside their office window … but less chatter about the wrappings and more on the contents!” Kingfisher held up his mobile orb for all to see “These little beauties are impact resistant, waterproof to seventy five atmospheres and work just like your twenty five pound bowling ball sized orbs; they have all the latest touch-screen technology as well as the new ‘Five-Gee’ roving lay-line-link browsing for when you are on the move and stone circles are at a premium, the network currently boasts 99.97 % coverage…These are the future of communication!”

The entire room was shocked into silence, one or two had of course seen them at a distance but very few had had them in their hands, they were amazed.

“The Druid iOrb 3 with Five-Gee technology and tri-core ion-cooled data processing!” exclaimed kingfisher

“What does that mean?” asked an incredulous King Barfael

“Fuck knows, do I look like a druid?…What I can say is that this little beauty gives the Dragon Clan the critical edge over all other Clans and even the Empire itself when it comes to instant communication capability. We can safely say that it will be decades before anyone comes close to this standard of instant messaging, these little beauties will revolutionise the battlefield! We will know what is going down before it even hits the floor” said Kingfisher to a speechless crowd

“I can tell yooz sumfink yooz dunt know” said Jahmedhi

“What’s that mate?”

“The Hague is full of Devils…And dem sulphurous bastards are up to no good…Queen Innana herself is on location!”

“What?” King Barfael was incredulous, the Incarnates seldom left their stronghold within the Vermillion Mountains but when they did, trouble could be guaranteed “Spread your net Jahmedhi and catch me the truth in all this”

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