Caitlyn yelled from the perimeter of the firelight.  “They’re coming!”

“Caitlyn has told me quite a lot,” Morgy said.  “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Fawnlum heartily replied.

Fawnlum stepped aside, as Lucas bent over Halrick with his wand of healing.

Morgy looked out and away, focusing her own acute eyes from the top of her long neck.

“Tri-cleorps,” she observed.  “They’re coming from the shrooms by the dozen.”

“There’s going to be more!” Sienna shouted, as she and Nepta were improvising a covering using Nepta’s outer robe, after she had shed her Slime-covered clothes.

“Archers!” Fawnlum ordered.

Caitlyn, Shahrv’j and Firgristle stepped forward, with Honee already working from a higher vantage point.

“They’re surrounding us,” Morgy said.  “They’re coming from all over!  More heavily from the north.”

“I know!” Fawnlum answered.

Moonlight suddenly streamed down on them.

“What’s this?!” Morgy exclaimed, looking down at the illuminated Fawnlum.  “Oh.  It’s one of the discs that Baneck spoke of, isn’t it?  It’s giving away our position.”

“They already know we’re here.”

Morgy snorted in agreement.  “Well, let’s give them something else to see.”

The dragon turned and faced the darkness to their north, and gave a great, rumbling roar.  Fawnlum felt it in her chest, standing as close as she was to her scaled ally.

“Lucas!  Cover the south!” she ordered, as Halrick stood up again.

Then she stepped up to the front of their perimeter, and saw a multitude of triple-set, red-glowing eyes pointing at them.  But they were not charging.  Morgy’s appearance was keeping them back.

But some force, or some inspiration, struck them more than their fear of her.  And the clanging of weapons, the howling of voices, and roaring of guttural threats, rang out as they pressed in.  This was an army, and if they had courage from the odds, they might believe themselves capable of taking a dragon down.  Their numbers were increasing by the second.

“Fawnlum,” Morgy said from above her, voicing the same potential outcome.  “I might die here, with you and your friends.”

“Nepta!” Fawnlum yelled.  “Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense!  Give me suggestions!”

“Can we float like your friend?” Bik’nar said, as she pointed up at Honee.

Fawnlum looked at Nepta.

“Honee can pull me while I levitate.  But I can’t cast that over everyone here!”

“How many can yer dragon friend carry?” Banacheck asked.

“Fewer than what you’ve got!” Morgy snapped.

“Can you cast it on a big object, like that?”  Honee called to Nepta, pointing to a big shroom-hat off to the side, left over from the building of their fort.

“Yes!”

Fawnlum noticed another yellow light shining behind her.  Lucas was casting his spinning ball of light, protecting the south.

“Bik’nar,” Nepta said, “If you can call upon Seln’ri’s power, now’s the time!”

The uzruul looked at her, puzzled.

“Give me her blessings while I cast!”

“You’re going to try to get everyone out of here,” Morgy said.

“Not one will remain behind,” Fawnlum replied, as she noticed the mob swelling around them, and all her comrades standing at the line.  “Don’t let the archers do all the work.”

“Certainly not,” Morgy said.  She inhaled deeply, and breathed a hot, blazing stream of fire at their northern flank.

Fawnlum smiled as the burst lit up the scene, bringing an outcry of foes who were not only incinerated, but blinded, as their sensitive eyes beheld the flames.

The moonlight became brighter, as all the uzruul summoned their disc-lights.

“Oh, my,” Morgy exclaimed, as she looked back at the shroom-hat.  “That moonlight’s special!  The spines on my back are tingling like a cat’s fur!”

Fawnlum saw Nepta sitting against the stem of the upturned hat, the uzruul gathered around her, hands raised above her, and calling out their invocations.

“Missy!” Banacheck called from her left.  “Even if the thing floats, how’s it to move?  Do we set up a sail, as on a ship?!”

Fawnlum looked at Morgy.

“Just tie a rope to the thing somehow!” the clever dragon said.  “And do it quick!  The enemy is up to something!”

Fawnlum looked.  “They’re just standing there.”

“Just right of center!  A new figure has come among them!”

“One of their wizards!  Cut him down!” Fawnlum answered.

“You know I dare not!  If I move, that force will flow past me and bury all of you!”

 

Nepta brought Diamance’s power forth, as she gathered the magic in her spell.  The uzruul knelt around her, singing a summoning song to Selnr’i, calling out to let power fall on her.

The incanting words went on uninterrupted, as Bluntwerk and Banacheck pounded the handle of Banacheck’s axe into the near-center of the stem, making ready as Gritcomb tied their two lengths of rope together.

 

“By Missal’s Burning Beak!” Morgy said to Fawnlum.  “I don’t like being surrounded like this!”

“Fawnlum!” Honee ran up to her.  “Your disc!  We need it!”

Fawnlum handed it to her, robbing herself of the light, and Honee ran back to the hat.

“Their wizard is building a spell!” Morgy yelled.

Fawnlum looked at their sparse line.  “What about your magic?!”

“My fastest spell isn’t prepared to reach that far, just like my fire!  Ah!”

Fawnlum jumped aside, as Morgy was struck by a lightning bolt flashing from the darkness, nearly rolling over her.

“Are you all right?”

She just snarled, and regained her balance on all four legs.  Then she roared again, with terrible, powerful rage.

Fawnlum covered her ear with her free hand, and involuntarily shuddered at Morgy’s intimidating aura, her bestial nature rising up in answer to the attack.

“Fawnlum,” Morgy said.  “I know that spell.  We’re in trouble.”

The tri-cleorps were finally flanking them – those who were braving the light – and Fawnlum heard the ring of steel, as Dreighton defended the western edge of their position.

She looked back at the hat, where the moonlight was streaming down more powerfully.  Honee was directing Lucas to climb on, and even now all but one of the dwarves were aboard.  Then the thing hovered, like a bubble of soap, delicately holding itself a foot above the ground.

“We’re ready!”

“Right,” the crafty copper-clad wyrm called.  “I’m going to call on one of my old personal tricks.  My throat will be sore tomorrow, so you owe me an ale later.  Just remember!  If we don’t get out now, we’re doomed.  Go to your mates!”

Fawnlum called her remaining friends, and climbed on.

Morgy braced herself, digging into the sod with her claws.  She suddenly let loose with her other breath weapon – her acid – spewing a jet of the burning substance as far and wide as she could.  Even though the wizards were out of range, it landed on many tri-cleorps.  But they were unimportant, as the bulk of the hissing substance landed on her true target: the bushes and other foliage.

Then she sucked in her gut, and attacked with her fire again.  The blast hit the acid, even the droplets hanging in the air, and produced a noxious, thick, clinging veil of smoke.  The smog rose up like an encircling curtain, and hid her, her large body, and Fawnlum’s entire party from the enemies’ sight, robbing the wizards of a visual target for their magic.

From behind her, Fawnlum yelled.

She gave a few strategic beats of her great wings, and sent the cloud rolling over their enemies, rewarded by new cries of choking throats and stinging eyes.

Fawnlum crouched on the hat, holding the loop of rope.  Nepta sat, motionless and eyes closed in the center, as the uzruul chanted, sitting on dwarf and human shoulders.

Fawnlum swung the rope high and tossed it.  Morgy snatched the end, fully extending her wings.

Fawnlum whispered a prayer of thankfulness at the slight lifting sensation, as she watched the line pulled taut on Banacheck’s axe.  Firgristle and Banacheck had a hold of the axe-handle, with a chain of locked arms between the stem and Firgristle’s crossbow, which was hooked over the lip of the hat, the living anchor for the line.

Morgy hovered for a second, then gave a gentle upward sweep.  The hat jerked upward.  Fawnlum glared out at their enemies, and at the rope, as it pulled tighter.

She looked at Nepta.  Still she maintained her concentration.  The roaring of the tri-cleorps drew closer.  Lucas’ spinning airborne ball of light was fading.

The hat rose higher.  Honee ran underneath, and pushed from below.

Then, they started to steadily ascend.  Lucas pointed his wand over the side, and attacked with a lightning bolt.   Fawnlum guessed their enemies did not have any spears or bowmen, for which she also whispered thanks.

Honee ran up next to her and called to Caitlyn.  Caitlyn tossed her two arrows, which the air-born scout caught and quickly fired below her.

Then suddenly, Fawnlum was eye-level with the tops of the shrooms.

Honee ran up again, pumping her legs, and grabbed onto the end of Morgy’s tail, staying away from the hat and adding to its weight.  Fawnlum heard the enemy filling the ground below them, as a few clubs and axes impotently flew up at them.

Then the upper breeze caught her hair.  Morgy gave a wider sweep of her wings, and their great, glowing, song-borne platform sailed smoothly southward.

 

Bluntwerk and Gritcomb briefly told their fellow dwarves what they had found.  Bluntwerk nodded to the axe on his pack.  “If even one of us survives, someone has to tell the tale!”

Fawnlum did not know how far they had travelled, but as the lights of East Osterly came into view, the sweat-drops running down Nepta’s forehead grew more numerous.  She shouted up ahead for Morgy to take them down.

Morgy agilely pulled them in descent.  Within a minute, the hat skidded to a halt on the quiet ground of the Garrior Trail.

Nepta slumped.  The elves caught her, and Dreighton carried her unconscious form off the hat, her body twitching.

“Is she all right?” Fawnlum asked.

“No!” Shahrv’j replied, breathing deeply, and leaning on Gritcomb’s shoulder.

Lucas quickly stepped up, and stood over her, and the entire party paused, while he cast a spell of healing.

“She’s out of danger,” he told Fawnlum.  “But she’s still horribly spent.”

“Do you need help?” he asked the uzruul, who were showing their own fatigue.

“We’re fine,” Bik’nar answered.

“We have our cloaks,” she added.  “We’ll go back into the forest, and nobody will know.”

“Better cover yourselves quickly,” Morgy said, gazing to the southwest.  “Looks like a mounted patrol from the city is coming.”

“Right.”

The uzruul were almost at the tree line, when Honee caught them.  “A moment, please.”

She suddenly gave Dilerr’n a hug, saying simply, “Thank you.”

Then she stepped over to Iljareve, but the priestess raised a hand.

“We were glad to free your friend,” she calmly said.

Honee gently pushed the rebuffing palm aside.  “It’s not that,” she cajoled, with a slight shake of her head.  “Nepta’s fought beside myself and these sword-swinging tree-girls for years.  Today, she stood with other magic-users to fight an enemy, and she’s glad for it.  If she was awake right now, she would tell you herself!”

Then the priestess could not evade the shorter human’s powerful squeeze.

The uzruul blinked, taken just a tiny bit aback by this easy camaraderie, and lightly returned the embrace.

Bik’nar patted Honee on the shoulder, giving her a quick smile.  “May we do it again, soon.  Until then, stay alive.”

And then they departed, melting into the darkness beyond.

“Morgy,” Fawnlum called.

“I know,” the dragon replied.  “I’ll see to Nepta at the inn.  Let your younger wizard come with me.”

With Lucas quickly but not without apprehension climbing onto her back, Morgy held Nepta in her claws, and launched from the ground, wings beating, and disappeared into the night.

As everyone else started walking toward the city, Sienna rode on Dreighton’s back, and Bluntwerk shared the adventure in more detail with Banacheck.

“The Slime didn’t take it out of me,” Sienna insisted.  “The Mark protected me.  I kept most of my strength.”

“You just came out of that substance.  You’re tired, and we can all see it,” Fawnlum snapped, brooking no argument.  “If you’re not going to be carried, I’ll knock you on the head, then you won’t have a say.  You’ll be fighting again soon enough.”

Grudgingly, she accepted her perch, and let Dreighton do the walking.

East Osterly’s mounted troops shortly came trotting up, reining to a quick stop before the dwarves’ torches.

“Master Banacheck!” the soldier in front called.  “What was that great, glowing object, flying towards the city just now?”

“That was us, Captain Dranain of the watch!  Now we need ye to carry us to the Council right away.  The survival o’ the city depends on it!”