Chapter Eleven:

Goats

The next morning, Richard returned to the dragon nest. He had just settled himself into his observation post when the huge black dragon stepped into the sunlight and slumped down contentedly on the ledge.

Several hours passed as the black dragon lay there blocking the entrance. The little green dragon eventually emerged rolling one of its charges and attempted to maneuver the ball around the black dragon, but part of the black dragon’s tail was in the way. The little green dragon attempted to shove the bigger dragon’s tail out of the path with a hind foot, but the black dragon woke with a start and swiveled to snap at its smaller companion, tearing out a large chunk of the green dragon’s hindquarters. The tiny green dragon screamed and retreated into the cavern, trailing blood. The black dragon was asleep again before its cries had faded.

When the black dragon woke the second time, it looked out over the valley and gave a keening cry.

This time, it was not answered.

With a booming sigh, the black dragon went back to sleep.

When nightfall descended, the three hunter dragons had still not returned. Richard found himself beginning to worry, despite himself. They hadn’t looked very healthy, back when the black dragon deprived them of their kill. What if they had died from exhaustion?

Awakening to the cool shadows of nighttime playing across its ebony scales, the dragon sat up, stretched, and let out another questioning cry.

Around them, the valley was silent. With an explosive snort, the dragon withdrew into the den.

Richard began to climb away from the den, but paused when the little green dragon dutifully resumed its cleaning procedures. He watched as it tirelessly went about its task, rolling ball after ball of feces out onto the ledge and pushing them down the mountain, the gash in its hindquarters oozing blood as it worked. The amount of manure made Richard wonder if there really were hundreds of dragons in the lair, despite the fact he had only seen seven.

Richard crept away during one of the green dragon’s return trips and hid himself in the same niche he had used the night before. However, he had not eaten for at least a day and a half and his empty stomach ate at his insides, making it impossible to sleep.

Richard considered climbing back to the den to gnaw on the day-old remains but after a night of being ravaged by scavengers, he doubted there was enough left to make it worth the trip.

He considered killing himself again, to ease the hunger pains, but decided instead to descend into the valley at dawn and search for berries or bird eggs.

It was during this foray that he found the blue dragon.

Richard approached it warily, watching it to see if its emaciated ribs were moving.

They weren’t. The creature was dead.

Richard’s first thought was of the wonderful bounty he had been given. Meat, and plenty of it. As he was tearing away the hard blue scales to reveal the tender flesh beneath, he had another thought.

If this hunter had died, what about the other two? If they were the only hunters for the nest, would that mean that the rest of the dragons would starve? Then, more importantly, if he let them starve long enough, would he be able to entice the survivors out of their nest with the promise of food? Which would die first? The soldiers or the queen? Would a starving queen stop producing eggs?

To test it, he needed meat. Live, panicked, four-legged meat. Something the dragons would have to chase down to eat.

The solution came to him as he was peeling a third metallic scale off of the body. The scales had an iridescent sheen that reminded him of raw pearls. He was pretty sure that somebody would pay to have scales like this made into armor. He could probably fetch a good price for them, as long as he didn’t get caught by slavers.

Then, he thought with growing excitement, he could buy a cow or pig, use it to distract the starving dragons, and enter the lair at his leisure.

But Richard quickly sobered. Firstly, he wasn’t sure that the other hunters had died. Secondly, he had no idea where to find a vendor who would buy dragon scales. And lastly, even if he did find a settlement, he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk enslavement again in order to sell his wares.

Still, he was willing to try just about anything to get home. Richard piled the scales into careful stacks and by the time he had exhausted himself he had two large piles that each weighed at least twenty pounds.

Forty pounds of dragon scales. Would that be enough? They were pretty, but people probably killed dragons all the time, so they couldn’t be that expensive.

Richard decided that if he couldn’t find a vendor who would buy the scales, he would try to make a garment out of them to confuse the dragons in the lair. Maybe if he covered himself with enough feces, they would accept him as a miniature version of the blue hunter that had gone missing.

Right.

Sighing, Richard ate his fill of the raw dragon meat—he wasn’t worried about parasites or food-borne illnesses in Raginok because he would probably die and regenerate before they had a chance to incubate. After all, the average parasite took weeks to start producing symptoms.

He forgot about food poisoning.

Two days and much gut-wrenching agony later, Richard gathered up as many dragon scales as his shaking limbs could carry and followed the river out of the valley. Trembling, Richard hoped that no one he met along the way had the presence of mind to realize he could just push Richard over and take his scales.

He wandered for weeks without finding anyone. During that time, Richard found some berries to eat that left him feeling worse than when he started. His thumb doubled in size and the throbbing was a constant reminder of his own stupidity. Each night, he bit his lip and tried to ignore it, but the pain kept him awake. He had to leave half his scales behind, no longer able to grasp them because greenish pus oozed from the wound every time he bent his thumb. It revolted him, reminding him how barbaric life was without modern medicine.

Richard had almost decided to turn back when he heard an odd rustle and what sounded like the bleating of sheep. He slipped into the forest and paralleled the river until he had caught up with the creatures making the sounds.

His first experiences with a non-player were surprisingly pleasant. His name was Luke and he was in his thirties. Richard found the man herding goats along the water’s edge. Seeing Richard’s miserable state, Luke built a fire and offered him food.

“Dragon scales are what they use to make the hovering platforms,” the herder told him once Richard was finished eating.

“So they’re expensive?” Richard asked, nodding to the pile of scales that the goats were pointedly avoiding.

“Let’s just put it this way… A handful would buy me a herd just like this. All that…” The herder hesitated. “You got enough there to go into cattle.”

“I take it they aren’t easy to kill, then,” Richard observed.

“Dragons?” Luke snorted. “By the time a den’s established, there’s no way to root them out. We need to tell the constable about what you saw. It sounds like a new queen got buried in the valley. If the young haven’t matured yet, the constable might be able to get the wizards to gather a force and kill them off.”

“Would they let me have an egg?” Richard asked, suddenly worried that his prize was about to be stolen from him. He wondered whether or not he would have to kill the herder.

Luke laughed. “Of course not. They destroy all the eggs.”

Richard frowned, wondering if he was going to have to kill Luke.

“They’ll confiscate the scales, too, even though they get all they need from people like you.” He laughed, but there was bitterness in his voice. “You can try mining the riverbeds for old dragon scales, since dragons always go to water to die. Some make a real good living off it and it’s not as dangerous as lair-squatting. ‘Course, every scale you give ‘em only makes the wizards stronger.”

Richard hadn’t thought about that. He considered throwing the scales away and coming up with a different plan, but if he could get into the dragon lair, it wouldn’t matter that he had helped the wizards build another slaving platform. As soon as he got out, he was gonna let the FFR know what was happening in Raginok and force NewLife to shut it down.

“Can you tell me where I can sell these?” Richard asked the herder. “You mentioned a constable. Is there a town?”

“More or less,” Luke said. “But this is a herding community. All we got is cows and goats. To get coin, you’d have to head to a big city, like Baar.”

Richard shuddered, remembering being suffocated by the piles of bodies after he was offloaded from his platform. “I’d rather not.” Then he frowned at the goats. They were small, but maybe they’d work. “Are those for sale?”

“My goats?” Luke asked, surprised. He gave Richard a suspicious glance. “What you gonna do with them?”

“They’ll get eaten. My brood is coming upon hard times.”

The herder bit his lip, looking from the scales to his goats. “I suppose I could do it. A friend of mine’s driving cattle to Baar next month. I could go buy a new flock then.” Luke hesitated. “But I’ve become fond of that big doe, there. She’s with kid, bred to a prize buck from downriver. She’s a good milker, that one.”

“You can have all my scales for half your flock. Doesn’t matter which half.”

The herder looked surprised. “Are you a fool? Son, with all those scales, you can buy your own cattle business.”

“No, you can buy your own cattle business.”

“Always did fancy cattle,” Luke said, biting his lip. “Don’t wanna cheat you, though…”

“You’re doing me a favor. All I ask is you keep quiet about where you got the scales. I don’t want anybody finding out about me or the dragons.”

Luke tore his eyes from the scales and looked at Richard. “Ain’t a problem. Nobody much goes into that valley, not even wizards. Supposed to be haunted.”

Richard frowned. “Haunted?”

The herder ran his hand through his dirty blond hair. “Yeah. Never been up there myself, but I heard stories…”

“Stories?”

“Yeah. My buddy Yager. Goes prospectin’ up there sometimes. Said somethin’ lives up there. Don’t know if it was a ghost or a man, but said he watched it tear up some of wizardlin’s that was checkin’ out the valley. He was a good ways off, sittin’ on a hill, but he said the thing moved like it was made o’ wind.”

“I haven’t seen anything like that.”

“There’s lots of stories,” Luke said. “Believe me, there’s a reason why the wizards don’t go in there. Don’t seem ta mind us naturals, but outsiders…” Luke lowered his voice. “You hear about the Judgment Sword?”

“The Judgment Sword? Sounds official.”

“It’s gonna send these outsiders back to wheres they came from.”

“So who has it?” If he could get his hands on a weapon…

Luke laughed and tossed a stone at two goats that were butting heads. “Nobody’s got it, yet. But someday, someone’ll find it and Raginok’ll be safe for us again.”

“What’s it look like?”

“Black. Pure black. The color of death.”

“I hope you find it.”

Luke scoffed. “Not me. An outsider will wield it. An ancient foe of the wizards’ ilk.”

So NewLife was about to add content and was currently infusing the game with lore. Richard smiled patronizingly.

“It’s good to meet a man brave enough to settle the valley,” Luke said, standing. “Now take your goats and be off with you. Pick twelve, any but that big white one over there. If they don’t wanna follow, feed them this.” The herder thrust a small sack of sunflower seeds into Richard’s hands.

“Thank you.”

“The Judgment Sword will come,” the man said.

“Of course it will.” Richard said, “With the next update.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Richard said. “Thanks for the goats.”

He shook the man’s hand and started back towards the dragon lair, bribing his dozen goats with the seeds along the way. Once they were out of sight of the rest of the herd, Richard was able to put the sack away and lead them without incident.